Family Second
by FactofFiction
Summary: Alternate ep 13x24. The team gets ahold of Ziva before the mortar attack. Follows along with the storyline of the episode for the most part. A true to character AU of sorts. RATED M FOR THE SECOND CHAPTER.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, beautiful and broken Tiva shippers.**

 **I've been working on a big, multi-chapter (possibly multi-story) fic for a while now, and I have been teetering around with whether or not I want to write some graphic sex scenes into it. I struggle to keep smut both hot and romantic when writing, so I wasn't so sure whether it was something I should include at all.**

 **And thus, this little fic was born. It will be multi-chapter, but probably not more than 7 or so. It follows along with the season 13 finale (the bane of every Tiva shippers existence) and rewrites it in a more… friendly way. A less depressing way.**

 **So anyway, here it is. Second chapter is smut. The rest will be… mostly clean? I think.**

 **As always, I own nothing. Some dialogue, particularly in the first chapter, is taken directly from the show for authenticity sake and should not be credited to me. The cover photo is from a TV line article and is not mine.**

 **Reviews are appreciated, especially for this story as I am seeing how well I can write a smut scene. Let me know what you think. Seriously, be brutally honest in the reviews. They will only make me a better writer (and my big upcoming story easier to read)**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Tony DiNozzo was sweating. Like a lot.

He kept telling himself it was the damn skylight. Or the case. Or just the general tension in the horrifically orange room. Basically, anything but the fact that he was desperately dialing number after number and typing email after email in an attempt to get any sort of communication with the woman that he spent the past 3 years pining over.

Getting over. He spent the past 3 years getting over her. Not pining. No pining took place. DiNozzos don't pine over anyone.

Still, to say it took 3 years to get over her was a little sad.

To say it took 3 years to not even get over her was just pathetic, and certainly not the reason he was sweating.

Another bland tone came through his phone followed by an automatic message. The number had been disconnected.

He pulled at his shirt collar, trying to get some form of relief from the burning on his neck by giving it some space to breathe.

"Ziva's cell is disconnected and she's not answering email," he reported as he thumbed through more numbers on his phone, wondering if any of his contacts would be useful at this moment.

"Boss, I'm calling everyone I can think of. No one knows where she is."

Tony looked over at McGee as he spoke. The younger agent looked fine. Sure, he was flustered and doing everything he could to locate their former teammate, but he didn't look nearly as sweaty or lightheaded as Tony felt.

 _There goes my skylight excuse._

"Somebody knows. Keep trying," Gibbs commanded, the vein in his forehead on full display as the apparent threat against his honorary daughter seemed to be looming closer and closer.

"It doesn't make any sense. Why is Jacob trying to find Ziva? She doesn't have any to do with his espionage case," Tony's finger hovered over a contact as he spoke: Adam Eschel. Was he that desperate?

"Agent Monroe is down with Ducky to see if he has any insight into Jacob's mental state," Bishop announced as she joined the team in the bullpen.

"We are missing something. The original CIA case files?" Gibbs was now leaning over McGee's desk, his knuckles turning white as he gripped it.

"I texted Kort to get over here, but I haven't heard back," Tony finally looked up from his phone, deciding to leave a conversation with Adam for a later time.

"You didn't say please," the bald-headed CIA agent came walking around the corner, as if on cue.

"I texted you an hour ago."

"I'm not your lap dog. I was working," Kort said, his accent slowing his words down to a nearly intolerable pace considering the current frenzy going on in Tony's body.

"Jacob Scott's espionage case, can you get us the case files?" Gibbs made his way around the desk and squared his shoulders with the outsider.

"Might I ask why?"

"Because he's looking for Ziva," Tim provided, his eyes barely leaving his computer screen for a second as he continued clicking through reply emails in regards to Ziva.

"Ziva? Well, that doesn't make any sense. She had nothing to do with…"

"We know that," Tony tugged at his cufflinks as he interrupted Kort, not anywhere near being in the mood to rehash things they already knew, "Just get the files."

"Worried about your girlfriend, DiNozzo?" The glint in his one functioning eye had Tony stepping forward and giving him a solid shove before he could even think to do it.

"What's that supposed to me?"

The two men stared at each other for so many long, tense seconds before Kort turned to address Gibbs.

"Are you going to call your attack dog off?"

Gibbs let out a small smile before moving back behind his own desk, "No."

"Fair enough. That was not one of my classier moments," he stepped a tiny bit closer to Tony, "Ziva can take care of herself, Tony, you know that. But I'll ask around. See if anybody's heard from her. Okay?"

Tony narrowed his eyes, biting back a few choice words about just how much Ziva can take care of herself. He knew Kort was right. But that didn't make this any less concerning.

He watched the CIA agent walk out of the bullpen and towards the elevator, not once letting his eyes drift from the back of his grey suit.

Just as he disappeared, Gibbs' phone rang on the desk beside him.

"Gibbs," the team leader answered. Nobody was paying the call much attention. That is until the grey-haired man stood up and leaned against his desk.

"Where are you?" he asked.

Tony turned to see his Boss' eyes. They were wide.

"Are you safe?"

McGee slowly stood from his own desk as the tension in the bullpen clearly started rising. This call was important, they could all tell that. But could it be…

"How fast can you get to DC? Quietly."

They all watched as their boss nodded along with whatever the caller was saying. His shoulders were relaxing beneath his jacket.

"Do it. Come straight here after you land," the man moved to hang up the phone but stopped himself, holding the receiver to his ear again, "And watch your back, Ziver."

There was a community gasp at the sound of the nickname. All of their hopes were confirmed. Ziva had called them back.

Gibbs slammed down the phone and looked up at his three agents, who were now all waiting on the opposite side of his desk, watching him closely.

"Boss?" McGee finally asked when he realized Gibbs wasn't going to offer any answers by himself.

"Ziva is on her way."

"Fast enough?" Tony asked, clenching and unclenching his fists at this new development. Ziva being safe was good. But Ziva being here… that might not be so good.

"Fast as she can, DiNozzo. It's a twelve-hour flight."

Twelve hours. Plus a couple to make the arrangements. At least an hour to maneuver the airport and get to the base.

No matter how you looked at it, Ziva was going to be here soon.

He was going to see Ziva _soon_.

And that had absolutely nothing to do with the new beads of sweat rolling down his back. Nothing at all.

* * *

Scott was in custody. And for a brief, blissful while, that meant the threat toward Ziva had been eliminated.

But, of course, Scott hadn't actually been the threat. It had been the slippery CIA agent - sorry - _former_ CIA agent the whole time. And they had all but held his hand and walked him to the farmhouse Ziva had been staying in. Or was still staying in. They couldn't be sure. They had no way of knowing whether she managed to get out of Israel yet.

When Tony and Bishop returned from finding Kort's phone at the Zoo, the bullpen was bustling. Between the agents at work, the suspect in custody, and the men following behind him to keep him corralled, it was getting a bit claustrophobic. And hot. Had it always been so damn hot in here?

Turns out, it was about to get hotter. Right around 1,100 degrees hotter. Because as Tim put up a video of news coverage showing a burning house in the dead of night, Tony felt like the flames were burning through the screen. And when the voice on the video reported that the house had been formerly owned by Mossad Director Eli David, Tony swore they jumped through the TV and started engulfing the room, burning just as bright as the damn orange walls.

"Isn't that…" Tim tried to say something but stopped short.

Tony finished for him, though he could never tell you how he managed to speak over the smoke filling his lungs and burning his skin, "Where Ziva's supposed to be staying."

* * *

"The blast occurred just hours ago in this tiny Israeli Village on the outskirts of Tel Aviv. The farmhouse belonging to former Mossad Director, the late Eli David was the apparent target of mortar fire just before midnight. Several terror groups have already claimed responsibility," the young reporter standing in front of a burning house - _the_ burning house - kept reading her script into the camera.

"More like a one-man terror group," Tim commented as he continued typing.

Tony gave a small nod of acknowledgment. He hadn't so much as grunted since he settled himself in front of the big screen, his legs set wide beneath him, his shoulders hunched as he repeatedly tapped his fist holding the tiny gold chain against his chin. He wasn't sure when exactly he opened his drawer and retrieved the… _old friend_ as she had once called it, but he knew why he had. It was an odd comfort in the midst of a terribly heavy situation. It almost felt like he was holding her hand as he watched her house - and possibly her remains - burn brightly on live television for the world to see.

 _Don't joke about that, Tony. Not even in your mind._

He cringed at the way his inner voice had taken on a strange accent and a surprisingly high pitch. He has been so sure he had forgotten what her voice sounded like, and yet here it was, reading his own thoughts to him as if they were printed in one of her classic novels.

"Where's Trent Kort?" Gibbs asked as he threw a file onto his desk.

"Nowhere, Gibbs. All previous means of locating or contacting Trent Kort have been disconnected," Ellie reported from her desk.

"None of his former CIA people. No GPS to track. Nothing, Boss. It's like he fell off the grid," Tim added.

"DiNozzo?" Gibbs pulled him from his thoughts and Tony had to hold in a comment about him becoming the stand in Ziva expert. He supposed it was appropriate, given the fact that not a day had passed since he left her on that tarmac three years ago when he didn't think about her. Her laugh. The way she would scrunch her nose at his dirty jokes. What she would say if she saw him sneaking snacks from the break room when nobody was around. Her. He just always thought about her.

But he wasn't pining. He was moving on. Of course, he was.

"Still no Ziva. I tracked down Adam Eschel in Belgium. He hasn't spoken to her in over a year but he was pretty sure she was staying at her father's old house."

He made sure to breeze over his conversation with Adam as much as possible. He didn't want to talk about the relief he felt when he heard he hadn't heard from her in so long. He knew it was wrong to feel that way. Adam could have been helpful in finding Ziva if the two had remained close. But it just felt so _damn good_ to know that they hadn't.

"We are just receiving late word of a possible survivor being pulled from the rubble. No identity is confirmed yet as they rescuers continue digging," The reporter continued on, unaware of the way her words brought about a whole new environment in a room thousands of miles away.

"A survivor," Bishop said from right behind him, and Tony fought the urge to jump at her proximity. The news must have drawn her out of her chair, just as it seemed to have done to the now standing McGee.

"I can't stay here," Tony whispered as he watched the flames dance across the screen again.

"We know that," Gibbs said, still sounding far enough away to be at his desk.

"If that's Ziva, I gotta go," Tony continued on as if no one had spoken.

"We know. McGee, get him a flight."

"It's already booked. Your plane leaves for Tel Aviv in four hours. Boarding pass is in your inbox," Tim reported.

Tony didn't move.

"What are you waiting for?" Bishop whispered to him.

Still no movement.

"Hey," Gibbs called, snapping Tony out of his trance, "Go."

Tony nodded slightly as he picked up his bag from behind his desk and jogged toward the elevator.

* * *

"You'll wanna sleep on the plane, Son," Anthony DiNozzo Senior was following his son around the apartment as he grabbed clothes and other necessities to shove into his bag, "I can give you something that always works for me."

"That's alright," the younger Tony said as he clumsily folded a jacket before shoving it on top of the rest of his things, "I'm not gonna sleep, Dad."

"Look, it's gonna be fine, Junior. You do know that, right?"

"No, actually, I don't," Tony tried to keep the annoyance out of his voice.

"Well, I guess it's better to be prepared, but I've got this feeling-"

"A feeling what? A feeling she's still alive? So do I," Tony looked back down at his clothes with renewed interest as he fought against the frustration rising inside of him. He loved his father, really, but he just wanted to be alone for a while. He was thankful that he would be making the long trip himself.

"But I don't know that she's still alive. And nobody knows anything so what's the point in feeling anything at all," he shoved more items into his bag.

"I didn't mean to make things worse."

"Listen, I know you're trying to help. And I appreciate it," he started blinking quickly, trying to hold back those tears that kept springing to his eyes every once and awhile. They were really getting annoying, "But I'm a wreck."

Senior took a step closer and placed a hand on his son's shoulder, "You're a rock, Son."

The doorbell rang.

"That'll be my ride."

"You finish. I'll get it," Senior offered as he turned and walked out of the room.

"Thanks, Dad," Tony sighed as he zipped up his bag and went to throw it over his shoulder.

He looked back toward the door to see his father coming back into the room, followed by Abby and McGee.

"Hey, I'm on the run, I gotta-"

His voice faded off as a fourth figure appeared around the corner and entered his bedroom.

Her hair was shorter, barely falling past her shoulders anymore though she had left it down and curly. It was also lighter. Several shades, he would guess. Probably a side effect of the bright desert sun.

She was wearing a heavy sweater underneath a long coat despite the warm April air. And her jeans had tasteful rips at the knees, which was almost enough to make him laugh. Ripped jeans. She had never been the type.

Her lips parted slightly when she saw him, and he was pretty sure his had done the same. Her eyes were so bright, burning into his with an intensity he was sure he had never noticed before. Or maybe he had just forgotten. He had been moving on, after all.

"Ziva," he hadn't really decided to say her name, but it had fallen off his lips so naturally, and so breathlessly.

She smiled a bit, letting just the corner of her lips curl up in the action, "Hello, Tony."

The air was growing heavy as he tried to find something witty and remarkable to say. He wasn't coming up with anything. Why the hell couldn't he come up with anything?

"She called the office right after you left. Her plane had landed and she needed someone to pick her up. Gibbs told us to bring her here until we can arrange a safe house," Abby broke the silence in the way only Abby can, with a bubbly and informative summary of events to ensure everyone was on the same page.

"Which isn't likely to happen until the morning. He figured she would be safer on your couch than his, given the whole no-locks thing."

"But Kort is in Israel," Tony tore his eyes away from the slim brunette long enough to address McGee.

"Well, we think. Or we hope. And we aren't going to risk it. As far as anyone outside of this room is concerned, Ziva David is dead. Well, anyone outside this room and the big orange room, I guess. We have to keep it that way until we track down Kort. For her safety," Abby wasn't watching close enough to see the way Ziva flinched at the notion that she was dead.

But Tony was. And he shoved his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching out to her. Pretending she was dead was a little too close to pretending her father wasn't dead after he had been shot by that Swedish mercenary. He hardly thought this was the way she would want to make her return to DC and NCIS.

"Well," Tony managed to catch Ziva's eye again just in time for his charming wit to recover from its shock, "I hope you like Ramen. Because I wasn't exactly planning for guests."

The smile that spread across her face was small, but it carried a loaded message: Thank you. Thanks for not making this weird. Thanks for breaking the tension. Thanks for not turning her away.

"I can live with Ramen."

He smiled back and tried to ignore the weighted glances his coworkers were exchanging in his peripheral vision. He felt like one of Abby's experiments, or one of Tim's book characters: being watched and analyzed for the slightest hint of insight into his mental state. He wondered if they would run back to the office and gossip to Ducky about the tense reunion. Surely the doctor would have some psychological explanation for why Tony felt the need to crack a joke and Ziva felt obligated to laugh lightly at it. Tony hoped he would never have to hear it.

"Is there anything else you guys need to tell me?" he turned to look at them and they quickly stopped their telepathic conversation.

"Just that we're going to find Kort. And we're gonna make sure Ziva stays safe while we do. We'll call in the morning with the details for the safe house," Tim lightly grabbed Abby's elbow and started dragging her out of the room. Ziva smiled at them as she stepped out of their way and watched them leave. She turned back to Tony after they heard the door to the apartment close.

"Ziva," Senior stepped toward her and engulfed her in a hug, "I knew you were alive. I could just feel it. Junior felt it too, but he was still so-"

"Dad," Tony grabbed his bag off of his bed once again and took a step toward the two, who were still stuck in an embrace, "Do me a favor and go see if you can get that blow-up mattress from the lady down the hall."

His father pulled away from his hug with Ziva reluctantly, "Why? You have a perfectly good couch to-"

"You know my back has been bothering me lately. The couch isn't a good idea."

"I can sleep on the couch," Ziva offered quietly.

He sent her a pointed look before continuing with his insistence, "You are a guest. I won't have you sleeping on such an uncomfortable couch. Just, please, dad?"

Senior sighed, "Alright."

They both watched as the older man left the room and listened to the sound of the door closing once again.

"Seriously, Tony, I can sleep on the couch," she said as she turned back to him.

"I know. I just wanted him to leave."

Her eyebrows shot up, "Why?"

"So I could do this without him making it weird," he mumbled before crossing the room and pulling her into a simple, friendly hug. The 'hey, I'm glad you're not dead' kind. Nothing more.

Because he was totally getting over her.

She slid her arms around his neck and gave his shoulders a gentle squeeze as she rested in the embrace. She smelled like coconuts. And shea butter.

Fuck it. Who was he getting over again?

"I'm really glad you're okay, Ziva," he whispered.

He felt her smile a bit against his shoulder, "So am I."

He let out a light laugh as he pulled away from her. His heart ached at the loss of contact.

Over her? Who was he kidding?

"So, was that Ramen comment true, or were you just making a joke?"

He smiled as he stepped around her and made his way to the kitchen, "It was a little bit of both. I really only have Ramen. But I know a 24 hour Pizza place I can call."

She was following behind him. He noticed that she had removed her coat as she slid onto a bar stool next to his island, "Pizza sounds good."

He squinted at the flier stuck on his fridge as he typed the number into his phone. He ordered a large thin crust pizza, half pepperoni, half vegetarian. He hung up the call before turning back toward her, finding that she was watching him carefully.

"What?"

She shrugged, "You did not ask what I wanted on it."

"Did you want something other than vegetarian?"

She shook her head, "No. It is just… funny that you remembered."

 _Whoomp, there it is,_ he thought as he felt the awkward tension filling his tiny kitchen, spilling out into the dining room, and engulfing the living room. So much for a stress-free reunion.

He nodded slightly before making his way to the alcohol shelf. He poured two glasses of Bowmore and placed one in front of her. If they were going to make it through this night, they both needed a little bit of liquid luck.

She tossed her head back as she finished off the whiskey. His eyes glued to her neck as she swallowed. He watched the veins move as her throat constricted underneath her olive skin.

He tore his eyes away and finished off his own glass.


	2. Chapter 2

**Bitch, I'm back. By popular demand.**

 **Okay no, actually I'm back because I already planned on posting this whole story no matter what sort of response it got. Thankfully, it has gotten a largely positive one. Thank you guys for the reviews! They really help me feel like I'm accomplishing** _ **something**_ **by posting these stories. And I'm so glad that you guys found the reunion to be realistic.**

 **I forgot to mention in the last chapter that I plan on updating this weekly (on Fridays from this point forward) and that I have finished the whole fic and it has 9 chapters total.**

 **But, yes, we have made it to the sexy time chapter. Enjoy. Please review and let me know how my sexy time writing is. This is my first published smut fic ever so be gentle but thorough with your reviews**

 **And if you guys end up hating my sexy time writing, please stick around anyway because I promise the rest of the story is really good and I'm really proud of it.**

 **THANKS**

* * *

Tony cleared his throat as he watched her toss back another glass of whiskey. Her third. He looked down at the still full glass in his hand. His fourth. It seemed like the longer they sat in relative silence, only broken by the occasional comment about the Dateline special they were watching, the more desperate they both became to get drunk. Or at least get blurry.

Senior had returned and left again long ago, dropping the deflated mattress on the floor and tossing out an excuse to go back and revisit the lady he had borrowed it from. Tony couldn't bring himself to care about his father sleeping with his neighbor for the second time. At least this time it wouldn't be in his bed.

It was almost an entire hour before the pizza arrived and Ziva didn't even make an attempt to pay for it. He thought it could have been because she hadn't yet had the chance to exchange her money for US dollars, but he had a feeling she was just more relaxed about that sort of thing. She seemed more willing to let other people do things for her. It was an interesting change.

She seemed to be more relaxed about a lot of things. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but she seemed peaceful. Calm. Maybe even happy, though he felt like that was hard to judge based on an hour or so of observation. Especially when she was probably still stressed about the whole Kort thing.

"I have not had pizza in forever," she announced as she took a bite out of her first piece.

"Why is that? Is the pizza in Israel not as delicious as it is in DC?"

She shrugged, "It is alright. Not terrible. But I have not been in Israel all that much."

"Really? Where have you been?"

"Sudan. Jordan. Syria."

"Those don't sound like popular vacation spots," he took a large bite out of his own piece and chased it with whiskey.

"They are not. But they are popular deployment spots for UN troops."

He almost choked, "The UN? You became a peacekeeper?"

She shook her head, "I did not fight if that is what you are asking. I was a field medic. Trained to assist wounded soldiers and civilians. We tried our best to be there when conflict arose in order to save as many people as possible, but more often than not we were a glorified clean-up crew."

Her words were slurring together just the tiniest bit, and he absently wondered if she would be offering up this much information if she wasn't tipsy. Or maybe this was another way she was more relaxed now. She was relaxed with information. "Sounds like you were surrounded by a lot of death. I thought you were trying to get away from all that."

She looked over when she heard the disdain in his voice. She had told him she couldn't handle all the death and evil all the time. She told him she had to get away. And then she ran into some of the most dangerous and deadly conflicts in modern history. She could see how he felt betrayed.

"I was. Sure, there was plenty of death, but there was also a lot of hope. I was able to save so many lives. I met so many incredible people making the most out of their horrible circumstances. I learned so much about life. And I learned so much about myself. I may have even done enough good to make up for some of the destruction I have caused."

He let out a long breath before nodding. He could understand how providing medical attention to innocent victims of horrible violence around the world could be therapeutic for her. But it also sounded like she put herself in a lot of danger. And here he had been thinking that she was safer while she was away. Turns out she wasn't safe anywhere.

He paused for a second as something she said earlier sunk in, "You said you were in Sudan? How recently was that?"

She shrugged, "Maybe a year ago. Probably less. Why?"

"Did you happen to run into a Dr. Woods while you were there?"

She looked around for a moment as she thought, "Uhm, I believe so. He was working with IDG."

Tony grimaced, "He was. Until he was kidnapped by a group of rebels and made to care for their injured leader or else they would kill him."

Her eyebrows furrowed, "That is horrible. But how do you…"

He laughed without humor, "Because we worked his case. And you're never gonna guess who he's married to."

"Jeanne Benoit."

His mouth fell open as she looked at him guiltily, "How did you know that?"

"He showed me a photo. Told me about how they met. I found it quite amusing if I am being honest."

"Yeah, I'm sure you did," He leaned forward and poured himself another glass from the bottle sitting on the coffee table. He silently thanked himself for having a lower proof whiskey on his shelf. It was the action of drinking that he was finding comfort in tonight, not so much the alcohol. Though he had to admit the burning in his throat was helping to cancel out the burning on his hands as he forced himself to keep them as far from her skin as possible. She had removed her sweater a while back to reveal a tiny tank top underneath. It was white. It made her look even tanner.

"So did you have to see her?"

"Yup," he popped the p as he leaned back on the cushions.

"How was that?"

He let out another humorless laugh, "Not great. Awkward. Intense. A little like seeing you after three years."

She pressed her lips together as he mentally kicked himself for the stupid comparison. So much for avoiding _that_ conversation.

Thankfully, Ziva seemed even more reluctant to talk about their past than he was.

She poured herself another glass.

"Anything else happen while I was gone? Any more blasts from the past?"

Tony laughed, "Oh, it's actually sad how long the answer to that question is going to be. The past three years have been almost nothing but circular storylines. If we were a TV show, I would say our writers were scraping the barrel. It was honestly tedious."

"That bad?"

"Horrible. Hollis Mann came back. Some crazy Russian tried to torture Gibbs as some sort of delayed vengeance for Ari's death. Jeane showed up again. Now Trent Kort is rearing his bald head."

She raised her eyebrows as she tilted her head back and downed her fourth glass of whiskey. He realized he had never seen her drink this much, but she seemed to hold her liquor well enough.

"That does sound tedious."

"But it wasn't all so boring. People died."

"People always die, Tony."

"Yeah, but good people. Ned Dorneget. Ex-wife Diane."

"Diane is good people now?"

He shrugged, "She became more tolerable after she and Fornell got back together."

"Back together? After being divorced?"

"Yeah. It was a weird time. Love was in the air, I guess. Tim and Delilah are still together."

She nodded, "He told me. Well, he mentioned it. He seems happy."

"Yeah, I think he is. Gibbs got shot."

She winced, "Was it bad?"

"Shattering bullet. Did some real damage. Almost didn't make it. Almost killed himself again when he wouldn't stop working so damn hard. Man is starting to show his age."

Ziva nodded, "I know how that goes."

"Schmeil?"

She sighed, "He has moved into an assisted living center in Jerusalem. I worry about him a lot."

"I bet you do. Jackson Gibbs died."

"That is horrible. How did Gibbs take it?"

"About the way you would expect. He tried to blow past it. Eventually, he slowed down and processed it. But he never let us see him sweat."

She nodded, "Sounds about right."

They slid into an oddly calm silence as they both watched bad actors reenact a gruesome murder on the screen. He slowly sipped from his glass.

She was the next one to speak. "You said love was in the air. Did you get a taste of that?"

He hesitated with the glass just inches from his lips, "I'm not sure we should talk about that."

She shrugged, "Try me. No wait," she leaned forward and poured yet another glass. What was this, number six?

She leaned back on the couch, "Okay. Now try me."

He eyed her for a minute before deciding to go along with it, "Well, I had a girlfriend for a while there. A long while, actually. Way longer than you would have expected."

She nodded, "That is good."

"Yeah. But it didn't work out. It's been almost 6 months since we broke up."

"Was it very serious? I mean, I know it must have been serious for it to have lasted that long. But were you…"

"No. I mean, we were serious, I guess. But I wouldn't say we were… _serious._ We weren't in love. At least, I wasn't. Not really."

She seemed to consider this for a moment before speaking again, "Why were you with her, then?"

He let out a long, dramatic sigh, "That's the million dollar question, isn't it?"

She stayed quiet for a while, but then: "What was her name?"

He looked at her sideways, "Don't laugh."

"Why would I laugh?"

"Her name was Zoe. I met her back when I was walking beats in Baltimore. She works for ATF now."

She looked over at him, "Why would that make me laugh?"

He smiled a little at her apparent failure to connect dots that everyone else had connected at the time, "Because it sounds a lot like your name. And she sorta looked like you. Acted a lot like you."

She raised her glass to her lips, "So you have a type."

"I guess that's better than saying I have an obsession."

She tilted her head back at his comment and let the whiskey run down her throat. He couldn't bring himself to regret the comment. She was the one pushing him down this line of questioning. If she wanted to avoid this…

"Why did you guys break up?"

Tony actually laughed, "You _really_ don't want me to answer that."

"If that were the case, I wouldn't have asked."

He watched her tilt her glass back and forth in her hand. She had a fair point. She was asking for this.

"What the hell. We broke up because we were doomed from the start. It was my fault, really. I put too much pressure on the relationship. I put too much pressure on her."

"Too much pressure on her to do what?"

"To be someone she was not."

Ziva sat up straighter, "Who were you trying to pressure her to be?"

Tony leaned forward and stared at her, willing her to take back her question, practically begging her not make him answer. She was clearly less drunk than he was right now. He wanted her to be the responsible one. He wanted her to stop this conversation for the both of them.

And the old Ziva would have stopped it. She would have redirected their thoughts and set them on a much safer path than the one they currently found themselves wandering down.

The old Ziva would have done the right thing. But the new Ziva was much more selfish. And she wanted to hear him say what she was so sure he was thinking. She wanted to hear it come from him.

So she just stared back at him. And eventually, he answered.

"I was trying to turn her into you."

She swallowed. He blinked.

"In the beginning, she was close enough. But as time went on, it became more and more apparent that she wasn't you. So I tried to make it work. I tried to make her work. She didn't smell right, so I bought her new body wash. New shampoo. New Perfume. She didn't laugh like you, so I stopped telling so many jokes around her. Can't laugh when there's nothing funny. She didn't _feel_ like you, so I…"

She leaned forward and poured another glass, "So you what?"

He looked at her, his eyes widening as he realized just how far they had spiraled already. Apparently, this was all it took for him to open up. Just a quiet apartment, some crappy pizza, and half a dozen glasses of whiskey.

Put them together, you get a DiNozzo truth serum.

He licked his lips and answered, "I came up with ways to make that work too. Everywhere besides the bedroom, I was trying to make her as close to you as possible. But inside the bedroom, I had to make sure she was different. So I handcuffed her to the bed. I bought her _dirty_ outfits to wear. I even asked her to slap me once."

They both swallowed hard.

"We had dirty sex. Wild sex. As long as we were doing something crazy and different, I wouldn't notice the fact that she didn't moan my name the way you did. I wouldn't get to miss the way you squeezed my hips with your thighs. I wouldn't think about the fact that she wasn't pinning my hands to the bed with our fingers intertwined."

"I am sure she is more than capable of doing all of those things, Tony."

"But they wouldn't feel the same. They would feel like someone else doing them. And that was more than I could handle."

He watched her lean forward and set her still full glass on the coffee table.

"And when did it stop working? When did you come to a point when you realized she would never be me?"

Something about the way she said it made him feel more naked and vulnerable that he had sitting in front of her in that farmhouse all those years ago. It was like she could see him, see right through him to his soul. Which was embarrassingly reaching out for her so desperately that he had played sick games with another woman's heart just to ease the pain for a while.

"She told me she loved me. And you had never said that before."

He saw her reach for her glass again, but stop herself just short. She didn't take the next drink.

"It's crazy, right? I had this smart, funny, sexy woman standing in front of me telling me she loved me. And I believed her, too, I mean after the shit she had gone through to be with me. You know, one time, even though I took painstaking measures to make sure I never got too wrapped up to stop myself, I still called out your name instead of hers. I don't even think I was actually thinking about you, it was just like my mouth longed to moan your name so badly it took whatever chance it could get. But she never even said anything about it. She just moved right past it and continued to do whatever insane, terrible requests I had. God, she was perfect. And hot. So hot."

Her eyes started watching him as he leaned a bit closer. Maybe it was the steadily rising temperature of his body that was making the whiskey work harder, but suddenly he felt like the very blood in his veins was straight alcohol. It burned as it pumped through his body.

"And I dumped her. Because she wasn't you. And my sick brain would rather be alone with nothing but a night full of memories and my own fucking hand than to run the risk of looking into anybody's eyes but yours for the rest of my life."

Ziva looked away, and he could see the muscles in her neck moving as she clenched her jaw. He watched them with great interest, shoving his hands into his pockets to keep from reaching out to touch them, to feel the way the smooth skin shifted and rippled as she ground her teeth together.

She ran a hand through her hair and it left a few stray curls to fall around her face, blocking his view of her. And he reached out without even thinking, gently brushing them back and tucking them behind her ear. His fingers lingered around her throat a while longer than necessary, but he noticed that she was no longer clenching her jaw. She was watching him carefully with a combination of a plea and a clear warning in her eyes. He ignored both, choosing to barely let his hand hover just above the skin of her neck and shoulder, neither touching her nor moving away. His own excruciating limbo. He wondered if he was doomed to an eternity here.

But amazingly, his lips moved again, and his tone was much softer than it had been before. Instead of frustration, it was full of longing as he whispered, "How did I lose you? Did I not try hard enough?"

She swallowed and the movement was almost enough to cause her soft skin to brush against his fingers for a moment. Almost.

"You tried, Tony. There was nothing you could have done."

"I don't believe that."

"But you have to. If there had been anyway - If I had even been capable of -"

She looked down and he automatically brought up his other hand to slide a finger under her chin and bring her eyes back towards his. His skin burned where it touched hers. He guessed based on the way her eyes widened and her lips parted that she was feeling the same fire.

She swallowed again, and this time he let his hand brush over her neck as she did so. It came to rest on her shoulder.

"Tony, if only there was a way I could make you understand-"

"I'm a good listener. Just talk."

She shook her head, "I do not know how to..."

"Tell me you love me, Ziva."

"I can't."

"You can. Because I know you love me. I know you do. Just tell me."

"Tony-"

"Say it. Just once. Please. I'm begging you."

She tried to turn, to slide out of his grip and end their conversation with a definite rejection. She just wanted crawl into his tiny bed that she knew would smell so much like _him._ He wasn't the only one with desert memories and a hand. She would do fine on her own tonight.

But he stopped her. One of his hands slid down to her waist, covered only by the thin cotton material of her tank top. The other tangled desperately in her hair and he pulled her face to him, claiming her lips with such a firm insistence that she practically gasped against him, her lips parting just enough for him to slide his tongue in to reacquaint itself with her gums, her teeth, the roof of her mouth.

It took exactly a half a second for her body to betray her. Her lips moved against his instinctively, letting him take what he needed from her before moving to take her own share. Her hands found the fabric of his shirt, balling it up and using it to pull him closer.

His hand slid beneath the thin straps of her tank top, running along her collarbone and across to her shoulder before he clumsily separated their lips.

He brought the hand up to settle on the side of her face, fingertips sliding into her hair as he brushed a thumb across her round, swollen lips. He waited for her to open her eyes.

She finally did, and he practically moaned at the desire he saw in them.

"Tell me, Ziva. I want to hear you say it."

Her lips parted and her breath blew across his face, sending a low shiver down his spine.

"Tony," her voice was scratchy and deep, barely above a whisper.

"Say it, baby. Please. Just say it." He closed his eyes, ready to hear the words he had spent three years trying to conjure in his mind. He could never get it quite right. Her accent would always be off or the inflection would be wrong. He just wanted to hear her say it so he could _know_.

"I love you."

He drew in a shaky breath and let it out slowly.

"Now say it in Hebrew."

He felt her lift her forehead off of where it had been resting on his, "Why?"

"Because it's your language. And it means something to hear you say it in your native tongue. At least it means something to me."

He had looked up the words during one of those sleepless nights in the first month she was gone. He hit the speaker button on google translate just about a hundred times, listening to the strange sounds and trying to imagine those syllables rolling off her tongue. She was proficient in so many languages, but they would never sound as right coming from her lips as her native one. And he wanted to hear her confess her love for him in it. He wanted to know what it sounded like.

He felt her fingers brush up his arms to rest on either shoulder.

"Ani ohevet otcha."

He barely let her finish before he claimed her lips once again, dropping his hands down to her waist and guiding her closer to his body. She let him move her, positioning herself squarely on his lap, her knees straddling him as he slipped a hand under the back of her tank top.

She returned the favor by skillfully unbuttoning his shirt, top to bottom, letting the back of her hands brush against his chest hair and bare stomach as she worked. He worked the thin cotton of her shirt up and over her hips, letting it gather around her waist. He rested his palms on the newly exposed skin, his thumbs settling into the dips around her pronounced hip bones.

His touch seemed to light her on fire, causing her to make quick work of the few remaining buttons and slide the fabric of his shirt over his shoulders and down his arms until it fell limply onto the couch behind him.

She pulled her lips from his, using a flat hand to tilt his head to the side and expose his neck. She blew on the skin lightly before ducking her head to kiss it, then suck it, then bite it. She ran her tongue over the affected area as if dulling the pain before starting back at the beginning, kissing, sucking and biting again in a mind-numbing cycle.

He closed his eyes tight and blew a long breath out of his nose. She had done the exact same thing in the farmhouse, working his sensitive skin as he fought to keep his wits about him enough to undress her. She had received an equally enthusiastic response back then to the one she was receiving now. She must have remembered how much he liked this.

The thought alone, the idea that she could have spent the last three years playing back that night just as often as he had, was enough to make him push down on her hips, making her grind against him. He needs friction. He needed to feel her on top of him.

She seemed to understand his unspoken plea and slowly shifted her hips forward to meet his, slowly moving them from side to side as she adjusted herself on his lap.

He growled as his cock sprang to life, hardening against the suddenly tight fabric of his pants.

She left his neck with a final bite and lick before she placed her hands on top of his at her hips and started guiding them upwards, pushing her shirt higher and higher as she helped him undress her.

Her attempts were working just fine until his palms came in contact with her bra, white and a bit lacey around the edges, and he found himself unable to pull them away. He moved to cup her breasts within the material, finding it amazing how familiar they felt though he had only held them like this once and so long ago.

She noticed his distraction and resigned herself to tugging the tank top over her head without his assistance. His eyes came back into focus as the skin above his hands became exposed and he could see the way her breasts were held up, supported by the wire. He leaned forward to press his lips to the soft skin just above the cups. He squeezed and lifted and _kneaded_ them between his hands, planting small kisses and gentle nudges as he went along. He finally dipped a finger below the fabric of one of the cups and tugged it down, exposing more tan skin and an erect nipple. His tongue made its way to the mound instinctively and he smiled as she gasped, bringing both her hands to the back of his neck and holding his head there. He continued to lick and suck on it as his hands slid across her back and fumbled with the clasp of the bra, struggling to get it unhooked in light of her tiny moans and insistent grinding.

He finally managed to disconnect the two sides and slide the straps down her arms, leaving her open and exposed in front of him, her position on his lap meaning he had the best possible view of the goosebumps that rose on her bare breasts as they met the cold air of the apartment.

He smirked, "Are you cold?"

She shook her head, drawing his attention back to her face, "Not even a little."

He understood her meaning and immediately slid both his arms around her bare waist, leaning up to catch her lips as she let herself fall into him, both arms snaking around his neck and her breasts pressing up against his chin as their lips worked across each other yet again.

It wasn't long before his hands found their way back down to her ass, cupping and squeezing it through her insanely tight jeans. Had it always been this round? Or this soft under his palms? He could have sworn it was more muscular, tighter last time he did this.

 _Well, it's been three years. And she's not a ninja anymore. Maybe she let up on her work out routine._

He decided he liked the softer, less defined Ziva. She was easier to grab and squeeze. She fit better in his palms.

Speaking of palms, hers were starting to dance dangerously close to the waistband of his pants. He wanted her to touch him, for fuck's sake he wanted it so bad. But he knew himself too well, and at this point, if he felt her hand so much as brush over the growing bulge in his pants, he was going to have to make a quick exit. And an expensive payment at the dry cleaners.

"Take off your pants," he commanded into her mouth, pushing her hips back so she would slide off of his lap. She followed instructions, standing straight in front of him and reaching for the button on her jeans. He bit back a comment about orders being orders. She had always been great at following through with those.

He watched her unzip and lower her pants over her ass, exposing silky black panties as she skillfully kicked the tight material to the side and waited for his next command.

He looked her up and down slowly, drinking in the sight, so much better than the one he conjured in his dreams.

He gestured pointedly at the small strip of fabric still covering her, "Sexy. Did you expect something like this to happen?"

She shook her head, curls falling around her face as she chewed on her bottom lip, "I did not."

He simply raised his eyebrows.

She shrugged, "I like to be optimistic."

"Hm."

She watched as he slid off of the couch and onto his knees in front of her. His hands traveled up both of her legs, starting at her ankles and working his way up to her ass, sliding palms across the fabric covering it and giving it another squeeze.

She almost fell forward as she felt her knees buckling beneath her, but she caught herself on his shoulders, earning her another smirk.

"Everything okay?"

She nodded, "Just thought the earth moved."

He grunted at the familiar phrase and pulled her closer, moving his lips and his tongue across her stomach, around her side, dipping closer and closer to the hem of her panties.

She squeezed her thighs together when she felt his breath against her. She felt his fingers hook through her panties and start tugging down. She squeezed them tighter.

"You are still wearing pants, Tony."

He paused and looked up at her. She swallowed at the sight of him, on his knees before her, the bulge that she could barely take her eyes away from seemingly forgotten as he prepared to touch her, to _please_ her before he bothered to deal with his own needs.

"Don't need to take them off for what I'm about to do."

She shivered, throwing her head back as his words alone seemed to draw her closer to an intense release. But she regained her balance and looked back down at him.

"There will be plenty of time for that later, Ahava. Tonight, I just want to feel you inside of me."

He watched as she stepped back and dropped to her knees in front of him, letting them see eye to eye. She reached out and started fumbling with his belt, and he had to put a hand over hers and stop it.

She looked back at him confused.

"Let me do it. If you accidentally touch me, I swear I'm gonna…"

She nodded as she got his meaning. She sat back on her heels as she watched him undo his belt and slide it through the loops. Then he unzipped his pants, pushing them down and maneuvering them off of his bent legs. Her eyes got stuck on the tent that formed in his boxers until he pulled those down as well, letting his cock spring up as he removed his final piece of clothing.

She reached for him instantly, and he had to grab her wrist to stop her.

"Lay down," he commanded her again and she held back the shiver that his voice caused. But she listened, sliding her legs out from underneath her and laying down on the rug, moving around the coffee table a bit in order to provide them with more room to work. She kept her legs pressed together, her heels digging into the carpet as she waited for him.

He moved slowly, running a hand up the outside of her thigh as he gently pried her legs apart and moved to crouch between them. She shivered as his cock brushed against the silky fabric covering her, teasing so lightly at what was to come.

He rubbed his cock along her length again, this time on purpose and with painstakingly slow precision.

She hissed and reached for them, trying to remove the final barrier between her and the man she had been thinking about for three long years. She needed him. She needed him now.

He stopped her again, wrapping expert fingers around her wrist and pinning it to her stomach.

"Let me do the honors."

He hooked his fingers through the material once again, pulling it down just a couple of inches before pausing.

She hissed again, "Stop teasing me, Tony."

"I'm not teasing you." He pulled them down another couple of inches.

"Then what do you call this?"

"I call this foreplay, Ziva. Since you won't let me get you ready the fun way, I have to make sure you are nice and… lubricated before I try to do anything."

She groaned, "I am plenty lubricated, Tony. Just please…"

His eyebrows rose with interest as he tugged the material down another couple of inches, enough to completely expose her ass but not nearly as much as she wanted.

"What was that? I didn't hear you."

"I said please, Tony."

"Please what?"

"Please just do it."

"Do what?"

"I am not going to say it. Just please."

He pulled her panties down and around her ankles before letting go of them. She tried to kick them off, but he held down her legs.

"Tell me what you want, or they're gonna stay right there."

She groaned, "Tonnnny."

His cock twitched as she squirmed beneath him, his name falling out of her mouth as a desperate plea. She wanted him so bad. He could get used to this.

"Say it, Ziva. Or we will sit here. Just like this. All night."

She swallowed as she pressed her legs together again and he watched as she forced herself not to reach down and relieve some of the pressure there herself.

"Please, Tony. I need you."

"You need me where?"

She groaned and threw her head back, frustrated by the utter lack of friction and his refusal to just FUCKING TOUCH HER.

"I need you inside of me, Tony. Please. I need you in me."

A cheeky smile spread across his face as he slid the silky fabric off of her feet and tossed it somewhere. He moved back between her legs and she could feel him pressing against the skin of her inner thigh.

"Now was that so hard?"

"Hard," she panted as she watched him position himself over her entrance, "So… so hard."

He chuckled as he leaned forward, positioning most of his weight on the hand he placed right next to her bare waist as he slowly pressed himself against her.

"Yes, baby. So hard. And you are so wet."

She felt him start to slide inside of her and before she could process what she was doing, a hand was reaching out, pushing against his lower stomach to stop him.

He looked up at her, confused.

"Tell me you love me. I said it. Now I want to hear you say it."

He watched her swallow as she tried to catch her breath. The desire burning in her eyes never wavering as she waited on him. Waited for him to man up and tell her what she already knew, what he was about to _show_ her.

He understood her need to hear it. He understood her desperation.

So he leaned down a little farther and whispered in her ear as he gently slid himself all the way inside of her, feeling her walls grip him as he settled deep in her, "I love you, Ziva."

She gasped and threw her head back at the sensation. He felt so much bigger than she remembered. Or maybe it was just the fact that she hadn't had anyone inside of her in so long. She wasn't used to feeling so… full.

"Thank you," she whispered, not sure whether she meant for his words or his actions. At this point, they were both so long overdue. She had wanted them both so badly.

He chuckled lightly and she felt him move a bit inside of her with the motion. She clenched her jaw.

"Don't thank me just yet. I'm gonna give you a hell of a lot more to be grateful for."

And he slowly started to pump his cock as he ducked his head to take her breast into his mouth again. They found their rhythm quickly as if falling back into an old habit. It was like riding a bike. They would never forget how to move when they were together.

They were both started to feel the pressure building as they worked each other into a frenzy. Ziva was squeezing her thighs around him as he slowly increased his pace. He reached up for her hands, which had been tangled in his hair, pulling at it and running through it. He pinned them on either side of her, slipping his fingers between hers, their sweat making it hard to maintain the contact and causing them to hold tighter onto each other as their bodies melted into one mess of limbs.

At some point she pushed him off, telling him to sit with his back against the couch. He complied, whimpering sadly as his cock slid out of her tight warmth. He didn't have to miss it for long, though, because she was quickly crawling over and straddling his hips, sinking back down on him, both of their heads falling back as the feeling returned and soon they were frantically moving against each other again. Her breasts, which were right in front of his face, bounced about with every move she made and he soon found himself positioning one hand on the center of her back to guide her movements while bringing the other up to cup one, his mouth securing itself on the other as she drove them both hard and fast down the road to their release.

He felt her body tremble under his hands before he felt her walls clamp down on his cock as she rode her way through her orgasm, her head thrown back as she cried out his name once, twice, three times. He slid both arms around her and pulled her against him, getting as much skin to skin contact as possible while burying his face in between her quivering breasts. He guided her up and down his cock a few more times as he rode out his own pleasure, releasing his load inside of her as she continued to squeeze him until there was nothing left to give.

She sat up first, sliding gently off of his soft dick as she reached above his head to grab something. He soon realized it was her tank top. She wiped herself off and offered it to him. He took it, refraining from bringing it to his face to smell her on it. Instead, he simply wiped the leftover cum off himself and set the top to the side. She sat next to him, her back against the couch and her arm brushing against his as her breathing slowed to a normal rate.

"Well, that was… unexpected," he commented, wanting to break the silence.

She laughed, "Not that unexpected, I am afraid."

He nodded a little, "I guess that's fair. What do we do now?"

She looked around the room a bit, taking in the open pizza box and the half-empty bottle, "I think we should clean this place up a little before we fall asleep."

He made a face, clearly not interested.

She held back a smile. Once a child, always a child.

"Or I suppose we could lay down on the couch and avoid our responsibilities for a few hours longer."

His eyes lit up as he looked over at her, "Together?"

She laughed, "Together. I do not know about you, but I am exhausted."

He nodded, scrambling to his feet and throwing himself back on the couch, ignoring the way the cold leather felt against his still burning skin. He wished the sweat covering his body would dry a bit faster, though, as he found it hard to get comfortable when he kept sliding around on the material.

Once he felt settled, he extended an arm of invitation toward her, "I'm pooped. Let's sleep."

She smiled as she stood up and reached for the blanket draped casually across the back of the couch. She unfolded it and spread it out around her as she slid into her spot in front of him, his arms finding their way around her waist and her ass pressing against his lower stomach as they spooned in the small space allowed by the furniture. She made sure he was covered by the blanket before laying her head down on one of the pillows. She felt Tony scoot closer to her, resting his head on her shoulder as he took a long sniff of her hair. She thought to make some joke as they lay in each other's arms, bodies still wet with sweat from their rigorous lovemaking, but she chose to keep quiet, instead opting to close her eyes and let the feeling of his heart beating against her back lull her into the most restful sleep she had experienced in almost 3 years.


	3. Chapter 3

**Anybody else still sweating from chapter 2? Tony probably is.**

 **Anyway, thanks for sticking around through my rocky attempt at making something sexy and still within my personal style of writing. I have read all your reviews and will definitely consider them as I look at my other story and think about whether I want to add smut it as well. I think the chapter went better than I originally expected, but could definitely be improved.**

 **But, we are moving on to Chapter 3 now and things are about to get a lot less sexy.**

 **Please keep leaving reviews. I love hearing what you guys think is going to happen.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Tony woke to the sound of his phone ringing. He scrunched his eyes against the pain the sound caused in his head. He reached out a hand, expecting to run it down the soft, curvy side of the body he knew should be laying next to him. All he found was cold leather.

"Hello, Tim," his eyes popped open at the sound of her voice, clearly having answered his phone. She saw his movement and smiled down at him as she listened to whatever McGee was saying.

He was disappointed to see she had gotten dressed. In fact, it looked like she had showered. She hair was still a little wet at the roots. He really wished she would have woken him up and invited him to join.

"No, I know. Tony is just off to a late start this morning. We did not fall asleep until very late last night."

She listened intently for another moment before moving around his coffee table and offering him the phone. He sat up slowly, every muscle he could name crying out in pain as he reached for the phone and pressed it to his ear.

"What?"

She laughed at the tone of his voice, a sort of mix between angry and just hungover. She turned and disappeared into the kitchen.

"Got it. We'll be in the office in an hour."

Tony hung up the phone and tossed it on the couch beside him. He was still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes when Ziva returned, holding out a glass of light brown liquid.

"Hair of the dog?" She asked as she gestured toward the glass.

"Now how the hell do you know that expression?" He took the glass and looked at it skeptically.

She laughed as she moved to sit down on the coffee table, "I know most American expressions. I just messed them up all the time because I liked when you corrected me."

His eyebrows shot up, "Really?"

She shrugged, "Well, at least towards the end of our partnership. It would be hard to watch as many movies as you made me watch and not pick up on a few things."

He looked down at the glass again, "I probably shouldn't drink this, right? I mean, I have to work."

She shrugged again, "You cannot seriously expect Gibbs to let you work the rest of this case. You're entirely too close to this."

"Too close to what?"

She smiled as she slid off the table and leaned over to kiss him. He met her lips enthusiastically, milking every moment he could before she pulled away and gently pushed against his shoulder, "Too close to me."

He quickly slid an arm around her waist and tried to pull her to him again, "Not right now. And I could be a hell of a lot closer…"

She placed a palm on his chest and gave him a stern look, "You told Tim we would be in the office in an hour. And I have seen you get ready, Tony. That does not leave any time for us to _get closer_. Now drink your whiskey. You are going to need it for what we're about to do."

He obediently tipped back to glass, swallowing all of the liquid before speaking again, "What do you mean what we're about to do?"

She stood, "If they are having me go to NCIS instead of straight to a safe house, it must mean that Mossad is here."

"Why would Mossad be here? And why would they need to talk to you?"

She smiled as she offered him a hand to help him stand up, "All in good time, Tony."

She helped him stumble to his feet and clumsily make his way through his bedroom and toward the bathroom. He was just about to close the door so he could shower alone (reluctantly) when a question popped into his head.

"Ziva?"

"Yes?"

"Where does this leave us?"

Her eyebrows furrowed, "What do you mean? We are still in your apartment."

"I mean _us_ , Zi. If there even is an _us._ "

She leaned against the door frame, "Do you want there to be an _us,_ Tony?"

He sighed, "More than I've wanted anything in my life."

She seemed to consider this for a moment, "Then I suppose we will have to have a serious discussion at some point. I have a life back in Israel, you know."

He nodded, disappointment drawing his facial features down. He didn't want another might be, maybe, someday from her. He wanted a yes, for sure, right now. But it was looking like that might have to wait.

She stepped closer when she saw his expression, running her hands up his arms and resting them on his shoulders. He had to hold back a hiss as he remembered he was still completely naked.

"Tony," she whispered, "Look at me."

He tried to resist it, looking every which way besides hers until her hands moved farther up and framed his face. He finally met her eyes.

"I love you, Tony."

"I love you too."

She smiled, "Then we will figure this out, okay? It might be complicated, at least at first but… look, I watched you walk away once. I do not want it to happen again."

"I only walked away because you made me."

She nodded, "I know. And I wish I could tell that I regret that, but I do not. I needed to be alone."

He slid a hand around her waist and pulled her towards him, being very careful not to stimulate any of the currently exposed portions of his anatomy as he did so.

"And now?"

She smirked, "Now I need a cup of tea. And you need a shower. You smell like sex."

She slid out of his arms and left the bathroom, not bothering to close the door as she did.

"Is that a bad thing?" he called after her.

She didn't respond, but he could practically feel her smirking as she made her way back into the kitchen.

* * *

"Where did the transfer come from?" McGee was asking when the elevator doors opened to reveal the orange room.

"DC-based bank," Bishop answered.

"Son of a bitch. He never left. I knew it, Kort's been in the states the entire time."

"Question is, where's he hiding?"

Tony dropped his work bag on the ground next to his desk, drawing the attention of the agents staring at the screen. Ziva was a few steps behind him, her hands shoved into the pockets of her jeans. She had chosen to nix the coat today. And since she couldn't wear the tank top she had on yesterday (for obvious, sticky reasons) she was down to only 1 layer. Given, that layer was a fairly heavy sweater that would have served her well in DC in the past, but now she found that her tolerance for cold had become practically non-existent. It reminded her of that first year she worked with the team. More specifically that first winter. She had been miserable.

 _Gotta get back to the desert,_ she thought as she watched all of the agents in the bullpen turn to look at them.

"Director is expecting you guys upstairs," Tim informed them.

Tony nodded and started following Ziva towards the steps.

"Wait," Bishop called as she jogged over to the pair, "You must be Ziva. I'm Ellie Bishop. I sort of took your desk after you left."

Ziva smiled at her, "I hope you like it. It is a good one."

"I do! I just… really wanted to meet you. I've heard so much about you from the guys and it's just… You're sorta like my role model since I started this job. I came from a world of analysts, so becoming a badass agent wasn't the smoothest transition for me. But I heard all these stories about you being so strong and courageous. I wanted to be just like that. So I guess I wanted to, I don't know, thank you? Even though you had no idea you were doing anything, you really helped me settle into this job."

Tony shot Ziva a look before she took a breath to answer, "That is very sweet of you, Agent Bishop. I am glad I could help."

"Please! Call me Ellie. Or Bishop. Or Bish, as Tony always does."

Ziva looked at him again and he shrugged, but there was a proud smile on his face. She just wasn't sure whether it was pride in her or in the agent she was talking to. Maybe both.

"Well, Ellie, I trust that you will help Tim and Gibbs find that bastard, Trent Kort. He burned down my house, you know."

"Oh, right, I actually had a question about that. The news report said that they pulled a survivor from the fire, and there was also evidence of practically cremated remains inside of the house. But since you clearly got on a plane long before the attack even happened, do you have any idea who would have been in your house that night?"

Ziva's eyes widened as she turned to look at Tony again, "I had not heard there were any victims."

He nodded, "Yeah, uh, I guess we were all just so glad to see you were alive, we sorta forget to mention it. Do you know who they could have been?"

Her shoulders started heaving a bit and one of her hands came up to her stomach as if trying to push the threatening vomit back down, "Oh god."

She took off for the steps and Tony practically had to sprint to catch up with her. She barged into the reception area of Vance's office and pushed open the second door without so much as a hello to his assistant.

"Ziva, how happy I am to see you," Tony was still several steps behind when he heard this being said, but he recognized the voice immediately.

 _Orli._

Not to his surprise, the Mossad Director was in Vance's office when he opened the door. To his surprise, however, she was openly embracing Ziva, and Ziva was letting her.

"Is it true? Were there victims of the attack?" Ziva's voice was shaking.

Orli nodded sadly, "I am so sorry, Ziva."

Ziva pulled back to look at the woman's face, "No. Tell me they were not-"

"They had no way of knowing."

"You should have told them. I should have told them. They should have known, they should have gotten out." Ziva had backed herself up against a wall now, her arms folded across her torso as if she was holding her body together.

"I tried, Ziva. I swear. I had just ordered a team to go to the house and remove them if they had not already fled, but they were too late. The fire was already burning."

"One survived. Who survived?"

Orli took a small step back and looked over at one of her men standing by the door, "Bring in Emily."

Ziva took in a sharp breath as she turned to look. Tony followed her lead.

The man stepped outside for a moment and came back with a little girl holding onto his hand. A little girl with blonde hair and bright green eyes. She looked around the room at all the big, scary adults until her eyes landed on Ziva.

"Zita!" she cried as she dropped the man's hand and ran over to the only adult she seemed comfortable with. Ziva bent down to meet her, pulling her tiny body into a too-tight hug. She mumbled something into the little girl's ear before picking her up. The girl rested her head on her shoulder while Ziva turned to look at Orli again.

"And her mother?" She asked, her eyes already growing glossy as she knew what must have happened. They would never have brought Emily here if her mother had been in the picture. They would never have separated them.

"Elizabeth did not make it. We found remains in the rubble. They were practically destroyed, but we made a positive identification based on dental records."

"I want a copy of those sent to NCIS. I want Abby to confirm your findings."

Orli offered a sad smile, "I knew you would want that, Ziva. The files have already been sent down to her lab. She is reviewing them as we speak."

Ziva nodded and looked down at the girl in her arms. Her eyes were closed and her breathing had become even. She was asleep.

 _Poor girl must have been exhausted,_ Tony thought as he watched Ziva's delicate hand run up her back and smooth down her hair.

"Who will tell him? Who will tell a man than his wife was killed by mortar fire while he was away serving his country? Who will tell him that the woman he trusted with her safety to was the reason she was killed? Who will tell him that _I_ am the reason she was killed?"

"This was not your fault, Ziva. And nobody will blame you for it. Michael will not blame you for this," Orli took a step toward the pair, and Ziva took an intentional step back.

"Like hell, he won't. This is his family we are talking about. I was supposed to protect them. Both of them."

"You had to protect yourself as well, Ziva. You did the right thing in leaving when you did. You were right to ask me to contact them. If anyone failed, it was me. I failed you, and I failed Michael. He will blame me."

"I should have gone to them myself. I should not have trusted you to get them out safely."

"Ziva, I'm so-"

"No. Save it. See if your apologies help Michael feel better after he finds out that the love of his life is dead. See if they ease his pain because they certainly are not easing mine."

Orli set out a sigh and nodded her head, "You are right. And we are in the process of getting ahold of him as we speak. If you would like, I could be the one to explain the situation to him. Perhaps he will feel better hearing it from my perspective."

Ziva shook her head, "I will tell him. He is my friend, and he entrusted the lives of his family to me. I should be the one to tell him that I failed."

Tony took a step forward when he heard the hitch in her voice. He pressed his palm into her back and started rubbing small circles on it.

She leaned into his touch just a bit, and it reassured him that he was doing the right thing.

"I will wait here until you get in touch with Michael. I want to wait in the conference room, where we can have some privacy. Tony will be our escort. We should all be left alone until you have Michael on the line to speak with me, understood?"

All of the men in the room raised their eyebrows at Ziva's tone. Gibbs, Vance, Tony, the random Mossad agent. They were all surprised at the ferocity of her words as she ordered them around. But, considering they all were also familiar with what she was able to do, it was not surprising when they started making calls and arrangements to meet her commands.

It was barely 10 minutes later that Tony found himself sitting in a chair, watching Ziva adjust the position of the sleeping child in her stroller. She looked over her shoulder at him, catching the way his eyes drifted between her and the blonde girl with confusion.

She stood, "I guess I have some explaining to do, yes?"

His eyes widened as he looked pointedly at the girl, "Uh, yeah. You were just delivered a child via Mossad direct mail. I think that should come with at least a little backstory."

She made her way around the table and sat in the chair next to him, "Well, she is not _mine_."

"Yeah, I gathered that much. Between the blonde hair and all the talk about her mother, I caught on."

"Okay, well, I have to start from the beginning for any of this to actually make sense. You remember I told you I was in Sudan almost a year ago, right?"

He nodded.

"Well, while I was there, I met a man. More like I saved a man. He had been shot in the leg during a confrontation with Sudanese rebels. It was a flesh wound and would not have been anywhere near fatal if he had not been left for dead by the rest of his team. But as it was, he was bleeding out. My partner and I were not even supposed to be patrolling that road. We were supposed to have the night off. But word had spread that there had been some sort of fighting near that area earlier in the week, so they had us run a last-minute circuit just in case. We thought we were looking for bodies, not survivors.

"But he was still breathing when we found him, so we took him back to our base. He had spent god knows how many hours in the middle of a dirty field surrounded by bugs and other animals, so the wound was infected when we got to him. It took almost a month for us to get it healing properly. And once we did, we got in contact with the US Embassy.

"The guy was an American?"

She nodded, "Army."

"And his squadron just left him?"

She nodded again, "That is where things get complicated. Apparently, the Captain of his unit had been making deals with different groups of Rebels. The rest of the men were in the dark at first, but they started catching on when they kept being told to let enemies escape. Once a soldier started catching on to what was happening, the Captain would come up with an excuse to get them sent back to the states. Well, that or he would…"

"Leave them to die."

She nodded, "That did not happen often, but they believe he ordered his men to leave behind a few other wounded soldiers in the past. Then he would report them as missing and their bodies would be retrieved a few days later."

"But when they went to retrieve this guy's body-"

"Michael. First Lieutenant Michael Bower."

"Okay, when they went to retrieve Lieutenant Bower's body, it wasn't there."

"Right. So the Captain spun this story about Michael being uncooperative and disloyal. He was labeled a deserter."

"So no one was looking for him, and no one would miss him."

"Right. But he was with us getting treatment the whole time. It probably was not our best move to wait a month to contact anybody. But when he told us about what his CO had been up to, we feared that the Army would report his location to the Captain and we would all be in danger. We were just a bunch of medics. Our protection detail had more important things to worry about during the day than watching our backs, so we were vulnerable.

"When we finally did reach out and tell them we had Bower, they were quick to arrange the Court Martial. They wanted to punish him for deserting. Luckily there was a lawyer connected to the UN who had been building a case against this particular Captain for almost a year. They were originally going to try him in a Court of War, but that would not help to protect Bower and any of the other men that he had wrongfully reported for bad behavior over the years. So they adjusted the charges and the prosecution to fit the Army's protocol and tried him here. The Captain was given a dishonorable discharge, which was the best they could do with so little solid evidence of illegal activity, and Michael was reinstated."

"But that wasn't the end of it?"

"Of course not. The Captain was lucky to not have been sent to Leavenworth, but he still lost everything. So he started making threats. And when Michael received orders to return to Sudan, he got scared. He was afraid someone would be sent to kill his family."

"So he contacted you?"

"Michael and I spent a lot of time talking while he was recovering. We became friends. I told him about my time with Mossad and my training with NCIS. He knew what I was capable of. So he looked me up and found out I was no longer on assignment with the UN and asked if I would be willing to take care of his wife and daughter while he was away. I was not sure it was such a good idea until he flew them out to meet me. Emily is… something special. She's smart. Quick. Funny. And I got along with her mother very well. I could not stand sitting back and letting them fend for themselves. So I insisted they move to Israel and stay with me until Michael returned from his deployment. I figured that they were much safer in a foreign country where they could fly under the radar. Besides, I had more than enough room in the farmhouse to hold the three of us. And we were far enough outside of the city that there was hardly ever any violence. And I could protect them there."

"So they were living with you."

"Yes. And when I got word from you guys that I was in danger, I went straight to Orli for help."

"Yeah, about that. Last I remember, you and Orli weren't exactly BFFs."

Ziva smiled, "I know. That was one of the first things I set out to fix. I was being so selfish after my father died. I did not consider how much his death would hurt her. Turns out, we have a lot in common. We have both chased down a lot of our past demons over the years, and I consider her to be one of my greatest friends now. That was why I trusted her to get Emily and Elizabeth to safety. I guess that was a mistake."

Tony sighed as he looked back over at the sleeping girl, "So what happens now? Are you set to be her mother or something?"

Ziva's eye went wide, "God no. I could never do what Elizabeth does. Or… did."

She barely whispered the last word as her eyes glued to the sleeping child.

Tony saw streaks on her face before she could wipe them away, "She was your friend."

Ziva nodded, "My best friend, I guess. We did everything together."

He leaned back and slipped an arm over her shoulder, "I'm so sorry, Zi."

She shook her head as she looked up and tried to blink back the rest of her tears, "I do not have time to cry over this right now. I have to take care of Emily. I have to talk to Michael."

He pulled her closer and placed his finger under her chin, bringing her face back to look at him, "You have to grieve your friend, Ziva. You won't be able to help Emily work through this if you don't do so yourself."

She sighed, swallowing hard before letting a small smile grace her lips, "When did you get so smart, DiNozzo?"

He chuckled, "I've always been smart. You were just too distracted by my dashing good looks to notice."

She half-laughed before twisting around to bury her face in his shoulder. His arms slid around her waist as hers slid around his neck. He rubbed comforting circles on her back when he felt her shoulders start to shake with her silent sobs.

They stayed in that position for a while, her tears staining his suit jacket and his hands running slowly across the knitted fabric of her sweater. It wasn't until the young girl started coughing lightly, then a little harder, that Ziva managed to pull herself out of his embrace. She stood immediately and went to the stroller, bending down to grab the young girl's hand and press her own to her forehead.

"She is not warm. She must still be coughing from the smoke inhalation," she said as she reached into the girl's bag and pulled out a small stuffed dog. She tucked it under the girl's arm as her coughs faded away. She rested her head on the animal and seemed to fall back to sleep, her eyes never opening to see the cruel world that had taken her mother away.

Ziva sighed as she rested her head on the side of the stroller, "She likely does not even understand what has happened."

Tony sighed, "She's going to start missing her mom eventually."

"Not to mention her father. I wonder if he will be able to get out of his deployment to come take care of her."

"And if he doesn't?"

She lifted her head again and looked down at her, "Then I suppose I will have to step in until he can return. Elizabeth told me that her parents were not happy about her marrying a soldier. And Michael's parents are both gone. So I am the only other adult that Emily knows. I am the only familiar person around."

He smiled a little, "Mommy Ziva. I would pay to see that."

She laughed silently, "You might not have to. There will probably be an entire Dateline episode about me once I screw it up. _Woman leaves child in a small market outside of Tel Aviv. Child gets killed by falling vegetables."_

He tried to ignore the implication of what she was saying, but he couldn't stop himself, "You would take her back to Israel?"

She looked up to see his concerned expression and sighed, "I told you, Tony. I have a life there. I have to go back. At least for a while."

He leaned back in his chair and started looking around the room, trying to find something to focus on that wasn't her while his heart stopped doing that stop and go thing. She was going to leave again. She had to leave.

Shuffling outside of the door caught his attention, and he flashed her a quick look before standing up and opening it. Abby, Tim, Bishop, and Jimmy all had to catch themselves before falling into the conference room.

"Can we help you guys?" He asked, his voice angrier than he had intended.

"Is it true? Does Ziva have a daughter?" Abby asked as she looked around Tony's arm to get a better view.

Ziva stood, "Does she look like my child, Abby?"

The goth considered, "Maybe her father had very dominant genes?"

Tony sighed, "Emily is not Ziva's daughter. She was just living with her in Israel."

"Who's her mother?" Tim asked.

"My friend. And the sole victim of the mortar attack." Ziva mumbled as she smoothed her hand over Emily's hair.

"And her father?" Ellie asked.

"Another friend. One who is currently thousands of miles away from his home and has no idea that his wife has died. But unfortunately, it looks like I am about to tell him." Ziva stepped forward as the Mossad officer from the meeting earlier appeared in the doorway, handing her a chunky phone.

"I'll take Emily to the break room. If she wakes up, I'll distract her with sugary treats until you're done," Tony offered as he made his way around the stroller and unlocked the wheel with his foot.

"Thank you, Tony," Ziva whispered when he walked past her. She watched him leave, and all of their friends followed him, much more intrigued by the child than by her impending phone call. She took a deep breath before holding the small device up to her ear.

"Michael. I want you to know I never meant for any of this to happen…"


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay, this is a short chapter. I know this. I am sorry. But I'm going to be honest, the rest of the story is broken up into chapters of roughly this length. I am purposely stretching what is a couple of days in the actual episode into around two weeks for the purposes of my own storyline, and it felt very wrong to smash scenes that are so far apart in my universe into the same chapter.**

 **Anyway. Welcome to chapter 4. As Always, I own nothing.**

 **And please keep reviewing. I love reading what you guys think of this story. Particularly, let me know what you think of the whole Emily situation. It certainly could lead to some interesting scenes between our lovebirds, could it not?**

 **Enjoy.**

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Tony was just finishing up his second cup of coffee when Ziva appeared around the corner. She walked into the break room slowly, her eyes red and her hair messy, likely from running her fingers through it so much. That was a mannerism he had noticed a lot since she got back. The old Ziva didn't do that very often, but the new one seemed to use it as a crutch of sorts. And considering how busy the past couple of days had been for her...

He glanced down at his watch as she slid into a seat beside him. 45 minutes. She had been on the phone with Emily's father for 45 minutes. And by the looks of it, she had spent most of that time crying. She must be exhausted.

"You okay?" He asked as he slid gently slid the other mug on the table, filled to the brim with hot tea, prepared with sugar and milk just the way she liked it.

She smiled as she took a small sip, but the gesture didn't reach her eyes, "I am fine."

He grunted, "Sure you are. Did he say anything about coming home?"

"He said he would see what he can do. But his tour is supposed to be up in a few months anyway. He might have to finish that out."

He nodded.

She leaned over to lift the cover of the stroller so she could see Emily better, "Did she wake up?"

"Nope. Didn't even stir. She must have been about as tired as you look right now."

She laughed quietly, "You really know how to compliment a woman, Tony."

"Come on, Zi. It's already been a long morning. And you didn't exactly sleep much last night."

"Neither did you."

He lifted his mug in a mock toast, "Already taken care of. Now, Tim gave me the information for the safe house you're gonna be staying at. I vote we pick up your stuff and get you and Emily somewhere where you can really sleep. Like, on a bed."

She looked down as if referencing the outfit she had worn again today, "I did not really bring any _stuff_."

He nodded, "I'll see if Ellie has anything you can borrow. Or maybe she can pick you up some stuff. You might be there for a while."

"Until you guys can catch Kort."

"Yeah."

"Can I ask you something about that?"

"Sure."

"When you guys catch him, what are you planning on doing with him?"

He shrugged, "Throw him in prison, I guess."

She nodded for a few seconds, "Can I request a different outcome?"

He slid a hand across the table and rested it on one of hers, "You want him dead."

It was a statement more than a question, but she answered anyway, "Yes. He killed my friend. He took Emily's mother away from her. He deserves to die."

"Not to mention the fact that he was trying to kill you."

"Yeah, about that, too. Why was he after me again?"

"Something about Eli's files. Apparently, those were the only documents left that could prove he had framed Jacob Scott for his espionage case. He couldn't have them found."

"And he thought I had the files?"

His eyebrows shot up, "You didn't?"

She shook her head, her hands clenched into fists, "Of course I did not have the files. They were of no use to me. I gave them to Orli years ago. Before I even quite NCIS."

"Any chance Kort would have known that?"

She shrugged, "It was not exactly a secret. I am sure other cases involving those files have come up over the years. It would not be impossible for him to find out where they were and that they were certainly not with me."

"So why blow up the farmhouse?"

"Political statement?"

Tony's eyes widened, "Or leverage."

"Over who? Scott?"

"Maybe Orli."

"No. Orli and I have mended many bridges over the years but there is no way that my death would have been _that_ important to her. If anything, she would use the files against him as soon as she realized what he had done."

"Then maybe it was us he was targeting. NCIS. The team. We all care about you. Your death would certainly put us out of commission. Some of us maybe even permanently."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that if you were killed in that farmhouse, I would have been taken off the case immediately. Hell, I'd probably be halfway to Paris by now. Or Berlin. Or just passed out on my couch surrounded by expensive Scotch. Gibbs would probably be in his basement making a boat to name after you. Abby would lock herself in her coffin. The search for Kort would definitely be put on hold, if not turned over to another team entirely."

"And so much is lost when a case is given to a new team in the middle. It would buy him a lot of time."

"Exactly."

She leaned forward and rested her chin on her fist, "But that does not make sense. If I had died, you guys would want revenge."

He shrugged, "We would want it. But would we be level headed enough to get it? You aren't just another agent to any of us, Ziva. You're a daughter to the bossman. A sister to McGee and Abby. Losing you would be significant. We would all be hurting too bad to get much of anything done. We would all be useless."

She nodded a little before leaning closer to him, "And you? What am I to you, Tony?"

He swallowed as he met her eyes. The redness was fading. The puffiness dying down. But she still looked exhausted. He wanted nothing more than to find her somewhere to _sleep._

"I haven't quite figured out how to put that into words yet. I'll let you know once I have."

She seemed a bit disappointed, but before she could say as much Emily started coughing again. They both looked over at the girl as she leaned forward and started rubbing her eyes.

She looked between the two adults a couple of times before reaching a hand out toward Ziva.

"Zita?"

Ziva smiled and grabbed the girl's hand, "I am here, Em. You can go back to sleep."

Emily considered this for a moment before leaning her head back onto her stuffed dog and closing her eyes. She didn't let go of Ziva's hand.

"Zita? What's that about?"

"She is only 2, Tony. She has a hard time with the 'v' sound in my name."

He nodded, "That's adorable."

She shot him a quick wink before leaning down and adjusting the small blanket on Emily's tiny body.

"But I really think we should get you guys to the safe house. Like asap."

She looked back and furrowed her brows at the urgency in his tone, "Why?"

"Because if Kort was after you as a means of hurting us, then he hasn't finished his mission yet. And if he finds out it wasn't you in the farmhouse…"

"He could try again," She whispered.

He nodded.

She stood, carefully setting Emily's hand down on the side of the stroller as she did in an effort not to wake her. She lifted the girl's bag off of the ground and threw it over her shoulder before looking down at him.

"Okay, Evil Witch. We are ready to be locked in the tower for our own safety."

He stood as well, walking beside her as she maneuvered the stroller out of the room, "That is a fair analogy, but I would prefer to play a different role in this story."

"And what role would that be?"

He looked around quickly, making sure there were no witnesses as he stuck out a hand and made her stop walking. He bent down and pressed his lips to hers for several long seconds before pulling back and running a hand through her tangled hair.

"Rapunzel gets saved by a handsome prince, right?"

Ziva laughed as he took a half step back and allowed her to keep pushing the stroller, "Not exactly. In the Brothers Grimm version, her prince climbs into her tower, gets her pregnant, then gets thrown out by the witch. Rapunzel gets zapped into the desert and he ends up blind from his fall."

"Yikes. Where's the happy ending in that?"

She shrugged, "Rapunzel and her twins manage to find their way back into the woods and reunite with the prince. And I think she cries on him or something and her tears heal his eyes. I do not know, it has been a while since I read it."

"So in the end, they get to be one big happy family, right?"

"I guess you could call them that."

"Then I'll be the prince. Painful fall and everything."

She chuckled quietly as they made their way into the elevator, "Careful what you wish for, Tony."

He pushed the button for the ground floor and looked at her, the way her hands rested on the bar of the stroller and how _natural_ she looked pushing it.

"I'll take my chances," he whispered as the metal doors closed.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey look at that I'm updating on a Monday! I've decided that since I'm going to start my summer job in just a little over a week I really want to get this story on the road so I'm going to upload twice weekly until this is done! And again, sorry for the short chapters. I just can't bring myself to tack on extra scenes for these more, I don't know, revealing chapters. They're moving the story along so much in so few words that I just feel like adding too much onto them is going to be information overload. I want them to sit with you guys for a while before I bring out the next one. Especially this one. I love this chapter. It makes me feel warm and fuzzy.**

 **So, yeah, I don't own anything. And I hope you guys keep reviewing this story if you like it. Or if you hate it. Or whatever. I'm down for criticism.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Tony was hunched over, his hand holding that of the little blonde girl as he made his way out of the kitchen and into the living room of the small safehouse they were still occupying.

"Let's run to the couch," he said as her hand slid from his and she took off in front, "Run, run, run, run, run."

She threw herself on the small brown couch as she mumbled indiscernible words and twisted around to look at him.

"The old man who stopped by earlier, that was Gibbs. He should be coming back later with some more food for us, and maybe even a G rated DVD we can all enjoy. Until then I guess we just…" he looked around for something to entertain her with, "Oh, I got one. You ready?"

She mumbled something that he took as a confirmation.

He held both his hands up to his mouth and pretended to blow into them. Then he pulled them away and held them out in front of her. She put both her little ones on top and he started the countdown.

"One… two… three!" he threw their hands up into the air and looked straight up as if trying to find whatever it was they just released. He leaned closer to her as they both looked around for a few seconds. Then she leaned forward and started pointing at something.

"Do you see it? Uh oh, here it's coming. It's coming back down to us," he looked over at her with a panicked expression and they both ducked beneath their arms to take cover.

He sat back up and looked down at the girl, "Okay, I think we're safe now."

"I should hope so. Or else we have been cooped up in this house for 3 days for nothing," Ziva appeared from the small hallway with her borrowed sweatpants on and her hair wrapped in a towel.

"Oh, we're safe from the bad guys, sure. But are we safe from the TICKLE MONSTER," Tony jumped toward Emily and started tickling her tummy as she squirmed and giggled happily.

Ziva watched them for a minute or two as she leaned back against the kitchen table. Eventually, Tony looked up at her.

"What?"

"Nothing. Just… you are really good with her. And she likes you."

He held up his arms in a dramatic shrug, "What's not to like?"

Ziva smiled and shook her head, "I just never pictured you as being good with kids. Last I remember you were practically terrified of them."

He looked down at the little girl who was rolling on the couch with her legs in the air, not concerned about anything other than trying to fit one behind her head.

"I don't know. This one's different, I guess. She's pretty cool."

"I know," She laughed as she opened the fridge and retrieved a water bottle, "That is what I thought when I met her too."

"Kelev," Emily cried as she rolled closer to Tony.

"What was that?" He asked.

"Kelev," she repeated.

"Kelev?" He stretched out the word as he tried to place it.

Thankfully, Ziva intervened, making her way over to the little girl's bag and retrieving the same stuffed dog she had given to her on the first day.

She handed it to the girl and she happily rolled over on the couch with her dog in her arms.

"Kelev is the doggy," Tony stated.

Ziva nodded, moving to sit on the little coffee table, "I gave that to her on the day she and Elizabeth moved in with me. Liz insisted we name it Kelev, which is dog in Hebrew. She wanted to make sure Emily never forgot where the gift came from, and who had given it to her."

Tony sighed as he looked down at the now sleeping child, "Gonna be hard for her to forget now. Any word from her father yet? Can he make it home soon?"

Ziva shrugged, "He is doing his best to make it happen. But things are not exactly calm in Sudan right now. They need all the help they can get to keep the relative peace. And Michael is a very good soldier."

"Does he know you're supposed to be considered dead?"

She nodded, "I told him that he couldn't mention me by name to any of his superiors. And that if anyone asked, I was killed in the fire along with Liz. I felt horrible making it all about me when it was his wife who had just died, but he understood that this was the best way to ensure that Emily was safe with me. If you can even consider this safe."

"Well, it is called a safe house, right?"

Ziva shot him a look.

"Okay. But you are safe. You both are."

"I know. Everyone is working so hard to track down Kort."

He shook his head, "That may be true, but that's not why you're safe."

He shifted closer so he could gently hold her hand. She looked up to meet his eyes.

"You and Emily are safe because I'm not going to let anything happen to you. Okay?"

"Tony…" she started, turning away.

"No, Ziva," he caught her chin and drew her face back towards his, "I'm serious. I'll protect you. I won't let anybody hurt you. Either of you."

She nodded slightly as her eyes slid down to look at his lips, close enough to kiss. They hadn't gotten around to kissing in days. It felt like years. And here they were, so close that if she just leaned forward a little farther…

Emily started coughing again, and the sound caused them to jump apart. Their moment of intimacy gone.

Ziva sighed as she looked at the girl, "I hope she stops coughing soon. I would hate to think that the fire caused permanent damage."

He shrugged, "Hey, permanent lung damage isn't so bad. It gets you first dibs on the oxygen at any given emergency room. I should know."

She shot him another look.

"Right. Not something to joke about. Sorry."

She stood up slowly and moved toward the couch, "I should probably get her to bed."

"Are you calling it a night too?"

She shrugged, "I guess so. Though I have done next to nothing all day, I am still exhausted somehow."

"It's called stress, Ziva. And your body isn't nearly as used to experiencing this much of it as it once was."

"I am still used to stress. If you recall, it wasn't that long ago that I was hiding in bushes to avoid African Rebels with large guns and even larger knives."

"Yeah, but they were not chasing after you specifically. It's different."

She nodded a little before looking back over at him, "I had forgotten just how stressful all of this was. Being an agent. Working a case. Now I am just sitting back and watching and I cannot believe I used to do this every day."

He nodded, "Not the most relaxing job in the world."

"How do you do it, Tony? I mean, how are you still doing it? You had been an agent for, what, 4 years before I joined the team? How are you still going?"

He hesitated, "I guess I'm just really good at separating myself from the cases. They don't get to me as much."

She scoffed, "That is a lie. I worked with you, Tony. You take cases personally. You throw yourself into them. You give a part of yourself to every person you help. I just do not understand how you still have pieces left to give."

He took a slow, deep breath as he looked down at Emily, sleeping peacefully, then back up at Ziva, her eyes shining in the dim light.

"I'm not sure I do."

She nodded, her teeth catching her bottom lip to chew on it lightly, "Do you think you are about ready to give it up?"

He sighed, "I don't know. I mean, it's like you said, I throw myself into these cases. I practically live for my job. If I don't have NCIS, then what do I have?"

She was quiet for a few seconds, "Well, what do you want?"

He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, "I don't know what I want."

She nodded and bent down to pick up Emily, positioning her on her hip as she turned to look at him once more, "I suggest you figure that out before you make any big decisions. Take it from someone who ran without knowing where she was going: It hurts less if you have a plan."

"And now do you? Have a plan, I mean."

She hesitated for a long time before sighing, "I have a plan for a plan. But I am still working out some of the chinks."

"Kinks," he corrected.

She winked at him before walking toward the little hallway, "I know. Goodnight, Tony."

He watched her walk away, her hips swaying and the bottom of her tank top riding up a little as she adjusted Emily on her hip.

"Goodnight, Ziva."

He wasn't sure she heard him as she disappeared around the corner. But he unhooked his gun from his hip and set it on the table before throwing himself down on the couch. It wasn't the most favorable sleeping arrangement, and after a couple of nights his back really was starting to protest from the whole thing, but he was happy to stay close to the door so he would know if anything hinky was going on. He was their protection detail, after all, not just their entertainment. He really hoped Gibbs would still stop by in a bit and drop off the food and DVDs. They had already been here for longer than he had expected, and the poor kid was starting to get bored. Hell, he was starting to get bored. And he didn't want to let himself drift off before the bossman came back just in case his half-conscious reflexes were a little too trigger happy. He could only imagine the head slap he would receive if he accidentally shot Gibbs.

So he reached behind him and grabbed the small pad of paper and the pen that had been left on the side table after Ziva made a grocery list. He pulled the cap off with his teeth and started writing:

 **DiNozzo's Plan**

 **Find Trent Kort**

 **Kill that bastard**

 **Make sure Emily gets reunited with her father**

 **Have hot celebratory sex with Ziva**

He hesitated on number four. Sure, that was definitely part of his plan, but wasn't so sure he should he leave it as part of his _plan._ He ended up crossing it out

 **4) Turn in my badge**

 **5) Buy a house**

 **6) Start a family**

He popped the cap back on the pen and stared at his list. He had kept things vague towards the end in case anyone where to come across it. But he knew in his heart that steps 5 and 6 were meant to be done with Ziva. He didn't really want them with anybody else. But he still wasn't entirely sure what she was planning to do after the thing with Kort was over. She had said that they would give _them_ a shot, but that was before all of this stuff with Emily came up. What if she has to care for the little girl for months until her father can come back? What if she decides to help Michael raise his daughter now that her mother is gone? What if they fall in love over family dinners and dance recitals? What if she forgets all about him and lives happily ever after with her hunky soldier with great health insurance and a clean Army uniform? Ladies love a good uniform, and he was sure Ziva was not immune to such charm.

He shook his head to clear his own thoughts. He was being ridiculous. Ziva said she loved him. After three years of not communicating at all, she still told him she loved him. If her feelings for him were able to survive her long trips through Jordan and Syria and Sudan where she was likely surrounded by attractive men trying to relieve some stress from all the violence with a hot girl in a UN medic uniform, then it could certainly survive whatever her life was going to look like once this was over. And he would do whatever he had to in order to make them work.

He had once told her that he would change with her. And that was still true. Now he just had to hope that she was willing to change with him as well.


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you all for the feedback! We're about halfway through this story so let me know where you guys think things are going!**

 **I own nothing. I am but a poor college student staying up way too late and writing way too much fanfiction for characters that have been wronged by their show's writers. I am truly just a vigilante, serving justice the way I feel it should be served.**

 **And that is with happy rewrites of bad episodes.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

"Please, Jimmy. You have to tell me if the team is getting any closer to finding Kort. I am not sure how much longer I can be stuck in this house with Tony."

"Hey!" the agent cried from where he was seated, trying desperately to shovel some food into Emily's unwilling mouth.

"I am sorry, Tony, but we are both going a bit stir crazy, are we not?" Ziva was leaning against the kitchen counter, her arms crossed over her chest as she watched Jimmy unpack the bag he had brought with him. There were several containers of what looked like baby food. She was not feeling comforted by the sheer volume by which he was supplying it. It implied they could still be here a while.

Tony scoffed, "Stir crazy. I think Aunty Zita is just generally crazy. What do you think, Emily?"

The girl smiled and clapped her hands, recognizing the name of her caregiver and finding it amusing that Tony was mispronouncing it as well. He tried to sneak the spoonful of food into her mouth while she giggled happily. It didn't work.

Ziva bit back a smile as she watched him try to feed the little girl again. They really got along well. Probably because Tony has the maturity of someone roughly Emily's age.

 _Not fair,_ she thought to herself. _Tony is plenty mature when he wants to be. He just… connects with children in a way most people do not._

 _He would make a great father._

She pushed herself off the counter and ran her hands down the length of her thighs, wiping off the sweat that had accumulated while her thoughts went to a place she was _sure_ they shouldn't have.

"The team is getting closer to finding Kort," Jimmy assured her as he pulled out a bag of cucumbers and set it on the counter, "But you guys might still be here for a few days."

"A few days! We have already been here for over a week!" Ziva saw Emily peek around the side of her highchair to see what was causing her to yell. She forced herself to take a few deep breaths, bringing her fingers up to pinch the bridge of her nose as she did.

Tony's phone started ringing on the table and he leaned forward to see who it was.

"You wanna take this, Zi? It's Gibbs. Maybe he can answer some of your questions."

She hesitated. She did want to see if she could get some more information on the case, but she felt like answering Tony's phone while Jimmy was there was a little too… personal? It certainly wasn't something he would have let her do while they were partners, at least not without a good reason.

But they weren't partners anymore. And they were certainly more than friends. So what if Jimmy saw her answer the phone and made assumptions about their relationship? Word would spread about them soon enough, right?

She reached for his phone and hit answer.

"Gibbs. No, Tony is right here. I just wanted to see if there was anything new you could tell me about your search for Kort," she sent Tony a thankful look as she walked toward the hallway, wanting a little privacy as she got filled in on their current case.

Jimmy watched her leave, "She seems to be holding up okay, given the circumstances."

Tony nodded, "Ziva's a rock. One of those huge ones you find at the beach. She can't be moved. She's unshakable."

He shimmied his shoulders a bit in an attempt to make Emily laugh. It worked. He tried to get the spoon in her mouth before she closed it. That didn't work.

"How's Emily doing?"

He shrugged, "I'm not sure she really understands what's going on. She cried most of the night last night."

He didn't mention the fact that the girl's persistent cries and screams for her mother had practically crushed Ziva and that he had spent most of the night sitting in the hallway with his back up against the door to the bedroom while she sobbed into his chest because there was nothing she could do to make the girl's pain _stop._

Nobody needed to know about that. Because Ziva was still a rock, even if she had to lean up against his rock for support every now and then.

"I just can't help but think about how confusing this must be. Her mom is gone, but the woman she always saw with her mom is still around. Not to mention her father still hasn't shown up. And then there's this weird guy with funny hair who keeps trying to feed her and watch movies with her but she doesn't know how he's supposed to fit into her life. Poor kid. Must be hell."

Jimmy stopped his unloading to come over toward the table, "No, whose poor? All I see is a happy kid. A smart kid. A strong kid. Isn't that right, Emily? You gotta keep it positive, Tony. It really matters."

"Okay," Tony held up the spoon again, "Positive!"

Emily giggled and brought both her arms up to cover her mouth.

"She positively seems to have no appetite," he concluded.

"Would you? I mean, look at these yucky jars here. You gotta try these organic baked yams I brought with me. They're packed with vitamin C. Natural fibers," Jimmy grabbed one of the many Tupperware containers he had left on the counter and opened it, pretending to take a bite, "Yummmm."

Tony grabbed the container and loaded a spoon with the bright orange mush. He swirled the spoon around in a crazy pattern, making funny noises and providing equally funny faces until he brought the spoon to her lips and she opened her mouth happily, letting him feed her for the first time that day.

He smiled triumphantly.

"You're pretty good with kids, Tony. You ever considered having one of your own?" Jimmy was zipping up his now empty bag and moving to put some of its former contents in the fridge.

"Oh, I don't know." His mind flew back to that list he made, nearly a week ago. Have a family being that last and most important part of the whole plan. But could he really pull it off? Because, taking care of a 2-year old for a week or two with the very skilled help of Ziva (who he was certain would be an incredible mother if the way she acted with Emily was any indication) was one thing, but doing the whole birth to adult thing was completely different. What if he messed the kid up somehow? He hadn't exactly grown up with the most amazing example of what a father was. Could he really take on such a role himself?

Ziva came back around the corner, his phone extended in front of her. He grabbed it from her hand and set it back on the table.

"Any news from the bossman?" He asked as he offered Emily more food. She reached out to grab the spoon herself, guiding his hand toward her mouth and opening her mouth for it.

"They are talking to Jacob Scott again. They hope he will be able to give them some more insight into how Kort could have been exposed to nuclear isotopes before he broke into Gibbs house."

"So, they're getting closer?"

She shrugged, "One step at a time, I suppose."

"Well, I hope you guys are not stuck here long enough to need it, but I brought you enough food for another week," Jimmy announced as he threw his empty bag over his shoulder.

"Thank you, Jimmy. I hope we do not need it as well," Ziva slid into one of the other chairs at the table and smiled as Emily waved at her.

"Zita!" she cried happily.

"I see you, Yakiri. I am right here."

The little girl smiled and grabbed Tony's hand again to bring the reloaded spoon closer to her mouth.

"I'll see you all later. Bye Emily!" Jimmy leaned over to wave at the girl and she happily waved back.

"Later, Autopsy Gremlin. You tell that wife of yours I said hello," Tony called as the front door closed behind his coworker.

Once they were alone, he looked back over at Ziva, "Am I really driving you crazy?"

She shrugged, "You always drive me crazy."

"Why? Because I'm so smart and charming and sexy?" He bounced his shoulder with each word, earning more giggles from Emily.

Ziva laughed a little too, "Or because you _think_ you are so _smart_ and _charming_ and _sexy_."

He held his hands up in mock surrender, "Hey, I can leave if you want me to. McGee can be your protection detail. Or Bishop. Wouldn't you just love to sit on the couch and gossip with the spawn of GI Joe and Barbie."

"Ellie seems nice. I would actually like to get to know her better."

His eyebrows flew up, "Okay, I can make a call, you know. I can make that happen."

He started to stand up as if he was actually going to leave and she reached up to grab his arm, pulling him back into the chair.

"No, no. You stay."

"And why am I staying?"

Ziva shrugged, "Because Emily likes you too much for you to leave."

He started standing up again and she pulled him back to his chair.

"Okay, okay. I like you too much for you to leave. Happy now?"

She leaned into him and pressed a light kiss to his shoulder before resting her cheek on it, looking toward the smiling baby and winking at her.

"I am, actually," he settled back in his chair and offered another spoonful to the girl.

They were quiet for a while as he finished feeding her the container in his hands. Once he felt she was sufficiently fed for the morning, he leaned back and set the container on the table with the spoon inside. Ziva's head was still resting on his shoulder.

"This is nice," she whispered as she closed her eyes and moved a little closer.

"Which part? The hiding from a dirty scumbag or the steady stream of too healthy food being provided by my coworkers?"

She shrugged, "All of it, I guess. It's just nice being here. With you."

"And with Emily."

She nodded before lifting her head up to look at him, "Gibbs got a call from Michael today. He has to finish his tour before he can come home to her."

"So that leaves, what, 3 months of you taking care of her before he can come back?"

She nodded again.

"That sounds… rough, Zi."

She sighed, "I can handle it. I have to. Emily needs me."

He slid a hand across her back, "You know, if you need help, I can do whatever."

She considered this for a moment, "I really need to get her back to Israel once this case is over. She is much safer off of US soil, at least for the time being."

"Like I said, I can do whatever."

She looked up at him, "You would be willing to come back to Israel with me?"

"You know what, Ziva. I'm pretty sure I would walk into hell with you with I had to."

She laughed, "Sometimes the desert feels a bit like hell."

He smiled and pulled her closer, "But I'm serious. If you need help, I'll be there."

"What about NCIS?"

He didn't answer. He just pressed his lips against her hair and got a whiff of her shampoo. It wasn't her normal stuff, at least not the same stuff she had been using before she left 3 years ago, but it still smelled good. It still made him smile.

They stayed that way for as long as the fussy toddler let them. Eventually, she started mumbling and reaching toward the couch.

"You wanna watch another movie, Em?" Tony asked as he slowly stood and moved to pull her out of the seat.

Ziva stood and shuffled over the stack of DVDs they had set on the floor next to the TV. She flipped through them for a minute before holding one up, "We haven't watched this one yet. _The Secret Life of Pets._ Sounds interesting enough."

Tony let out an exaggerated groan as he set Emily down on the couch and settled in beside her, "Can't we get some Bond or something up in here?"

Ziva laughed as she loaded the DVD into the player, "Kid-friendly, Tony. Get used to it."

His eyes lit up as he watched her stand and make her way over to the couch, sitting very close to him as she slid an arm up his back and ran her fingers through the short hairs at the base of his neck.

She saw him looking at her funny.

"What?"

"Nothing. Just… I _could_ get used to it, you know. That is something I _could_ do."

She smiled as she leaned into him and turned her attention to the previews on the screen. She wasn't sure whether he was hinting at the fact that he would be willing to go to Israel and help with Emily if she wanted, or if he was suggesting something deeper. Either way, his comment made her heart swell inside her chest as he snaked an arm around her waist and practically pulled her onto his lap.

 _Maybe that father comment earlier wasn't too far off. Maybe her plan wasn't as insane as she had originally thought._


	7. Chapter 7

**Look at that. Just when you thought my chapters couldn't get any shorter, I pull this one out. But to be fair, I really wanted a cliffhanger here. And we are getting so close to the end of this story, I just wanna drag it on a little bit longer.**

 **Anyway, I hope you like this chapter. It will either really surprise you or go right along with what you assumed I was doing with this story. Oh well.**

 **And I'm planning on posting both of the final chapters next week. I know I didn't post Monday like I implied I would, but things have been... chaotic lately. But this story will be wrapped up next week, I promise!**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

"Where are we with Kort?" Tony asked as he pushed Emily's stroller through the Navy Yard with Tim by his side. He hadn't been sure about bringing the little girl out with him, but Ziva had insisted. She said Emily needed some fresh air and sunshine. Afterall, it wasn't actually the child who was being hunted, it was her. So why shouldn't he bring her to the yard with him for a nice stroll?

Plus, it had given Ziva a chance to spend some time with Bishop. She really had been looking forward to getting to know the young agent better. And she was probably dying for some conversation with someone _other_ than him. They were now officially at two weeks living in the safe house together. And while things still seemed to be going okay, they were both itching for a little alone time. Just a little.

"We might have come upon his next target. A nuclear expert," Tim said as he sipped his coffee.

"Korts into nukes now?"

"Just following a lead," Tim shrugged.

"Well, that's a lead I'm interested in. Call me when you're close," Tony said as he made brought the stroller to a stop and moved to sit down in front of it.

"You know I will. We all want him."

Tony nodded a little and looked away. Sure, they all wanted to catch Kort. But he wanted the man dead. He wanted to watch the life drain out of his eyes - sorry - eye. What he had done to that little girl was horrible. Carelessly taking away her mother and leaving her with no one around to care for her but Ziva, who had barely known her for more than a few months but already felt a sense of duty to step up as her full-time caregiver. Not to mention what the whole situation had done to Ziva, killing her best friend for no reason. No real purpose behind her death.

And then there was the fact that this bastard was running around, trying to kill the woman he loved for no reason other than to throw him and the team off of his trail. If Ziva had been killed in that fire, Tony would have lost everything. And the fact that it had even been a possibility was enough to make him want revenge. Kort was messing with his family, her family, and everything in between. He was going to die for all the pain he caused. Tony would make sure of it.

"What do you make of all this, Emily? Tony and Ziva taking care of you?" Tim was smiling down at the girl as she looked around at all the people.

"Well, she barely knows me. But she seems pretty close to Ziva. And we're actually pretty good at this whole tag team parenting thing. Maybe we should try out for the Olympic team."

Tim laughed, "I think it's amazing that she hasn't killed you yet, seeing as you guys have been spending so much time together in the safe house."

Tony made a face. Tim caught it.

"What is it? Are you guys… actually getting along?"

"We're more than getting along, Probie."

"Please tell me you're not… you guys aren't, like, an item now, are you?"

Tony shrugged, "Who really wants to put labels on these things? I sure don't."

"But you two are playing house, right? And enjoying it?"

Tony nodded, "I guess you could say that."

McGee looked away, "Unbelievable."

"I love her, Tim."

His partner sighed, "I know you do. Have you told her?"

Tony nodded again.

"Then I guess that settles that, huh?"

"Maybe. Or maybe not."

"What do you mean?"

Tony hesitated, "It's still sorta… complicated. We have a connection. We always have. But there are just so many _things_ trying to get in the way."

"Like Emily?"

He shrugged, "In some ways, yes. But not in the way you're thinking. I care about the kid, too. But Ziva wants to take her back to Israel once we get Kort. Insists she's safer there until her father gets back."

"And you don't want her to go."

"Of course I don't want her to go. I want her here. With me. All the time. But I get where she's coming from. She has a life in Israel. At the very least she needs some time to wrap it up before she walks away from it all."

"But you're scared that if she leaves, she won't come back."

He sighed, "Something about Israel pulled her in last time. I don't know what it was exactly, but she needs it. There's something there that feeds her spirit. And I'm just not sure I can help her recreate that here."

"So where does that leave you guys?"

Tony sighed again, "You know, I've been asking myself that question every day since she got back. I'll let you know once I find the answer."

Tim nodded and looked back down at Emily, "Well, whatever happens, I hope you end up being happy. You deserve it. You both do."

"Thanks, man," Tony ran a hand through his hair and started eyeing a colorful van on the other side of the yard, "You think the kid likes ice cream?"

* * *

Ziva squeezed her eyes shut as she leaned against the counter in the small bathroom of the safe house.

 _No. No. No. This can't be happening. No._

She heard a ringtone play from the outside of the door followed by Ellie's soft voice.

"It's time, Ziva. It should be ready now."

Ziva groaned as she opened her eyes and reached for the small pink stick sitting on the counter.

 _It's not gonna be positive. There's no way._

She held the stick up a little higher and took a deep breath, eyeing herself in the mirror before dropping her attention to the little white oval.

Her knees threatened to buckle as she read her results. A pink plus sign. A positive.

She was pregnant.

"You said you bought other tests, right?" She called through the door.

"I have a few different ones out here. Why? What's it say?"

"Just… bring me all of the ones you have. Please."

She listened as the blonde agent stepped away from the bathroom door. She moved to sit on the closed toilet seat, her head falling into her hands.

 _This was not supposed to happen. Not now. Not like this._

She glared at the little pink stick as it sat on the counter. It was mocking her.

There was a light knock on the door and then it opened just a bit. Ellie's hand slid through the crack, a brown paper bag clutched in it.

Ziva reached for the bag, thanking the agent as she slowly shut the door again and moved back down the hallway, sensing that the Israeli needed some time alone.

Ziva pulled out all the multi-colored boxes and lined them up on the counter. 6. Plus the one she had already taken, so 7. She would take 7 different tests and if they all came back positive then…

 _Then I'll have to figure out how to tell Tony he's going to be a father._

 _Shit._


	8. Chapter 8

**It's all getting real now. Really real. I hope you like this chapter. I don't know how else to intro it, so here you go.**

 **I own nothing. Please leave reviews. I'm proud as hell of this story and I love hearing what you guys think.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Emily giggled as Tony brought his tiny teacup up to clink against her tiny teacup. They both tilted their heads back as they 'drank' their tea before settling the cups on the counter.

"Should we tell Aunty Zita all about our lovely trip to the Navy Yard today?" He asked the girl as he poured them each some more 'tea'.

Ziva was seated on the opposite end of the couch, her legs pressing against her chest as she stared out the window behind them. He noticed she was chewing anxiously on one of her fingernails.

"We could talk about how we met up with McGeeky and had a nice little walk. Or how we sat in the shade and watched the other kids run around with that dog. Or maybe about that big ice cream cone we split while we walked back to the car. That was yummy, wasn't it, Em?"

He looked over at Ziva, waiting for some sort of scolding about giving the girl that much sugar without asking her first. But her eyes were still glued to the window, far away and glossy as she kept chewing on that nail.

He sighed before standing up from his spot on the coffee table. He grabbed one of the tiny cups and took it with him as he shifted closer to her side of the couch. He bent over and held the cup in front of her face, purposely in her line of sight. It took a moment for her to register the object, and when she did she just looked over at him confused.

"A peace offering. For whatever I did wrong that's making you ignore me," he answered as he moved the cup closer to her.

She reached for it slowly, "You did nothing wrong, Tony."

"Okay. Then what's going on?"

"Nothing."

He gave her an incredulous look.

"I am serious. Nothing is going on."

"You have always been a terrible liar, Zi."

She scoffed, "I once lied for a living."

"Yeah, but you're bad at lying to your friends. You're bad at lying to me. So let's hear it. What's wrong?"

She shrugged, "I am just… so ready for all of this to be over."

He nodded, "I know. And the team is getting close to Kort. I can feel it. We won't be here much longer."

She nodded a little too and looked back out the window.

"But that's not what's bothering you."

She sighed and looked down, "I do not think now is a good time to talk about this, Tony."

He watched her carefully before reaching out and taking the tiny teacup from her hand. He made a big show of "pouring" more tea in it and handing it back to Emily before turning back to talk to Ziva.

"Then let's talk about something else. I've been thinking about my plan."

Her eyebrows furrowed, "What plan?"

"The one for after I leave NCIS. I'm not saying I'm gonna quit tomorrow or anything. I just want you to know that… I've been working on my plan."

She sat up a little bit, "Care to share what you have come up with so far?"

"Actually," he shoved his hand into his pocket and fished around for the folded up paper, "I have a list."

He held it out to her. She took it carefully, unfolding it slowly as her eyes started flying around the page.

She cleared her throat as she went to read it out loud, "Number 1: Find Trent Kort."

He shrugged as she looked up at him, "You gotta start somewhere."

She nodded a little before continuing, "Number 2: kill that- " She looked over at Emily and swallowed before substituting in the word "-man."

"I told McGee to call me as soon as they have a solid lead. I want to be there when they find him. And I'm gonna kill him."

She smiled a little and reached out for his hand, "Thank you, Tony."

He shrugged, "I want him dead as much as you do. Or - almost as much. And I'll be happy to make sure that happens."

She looked back down at the paper, "Number 3: Make sure Emily gets reunited with her father."

"Kids been through a lot. I just want to know she's safe."

She squinted down at the paper for a second before looking at him quizzically, "What's this crossed out one say?"

"Oh, nothing."

"I think I see my name in it."

"It's really not that important. Move on to the next one."

She smirked a bit as she looked back down at the page, and he wondered if he hadn't crossed it out well enough for her sneaky ninja eyes.

"Number 4: Turn in your badge."

"I don't want to be an agent forever. I can't be."

She nodded a little as she gave his hand a strong squeeze, "I understand."

She looked back at the list, "Number 5: buy a house."

"I'm tired of noisy neighbors and crowded elevators. I want room to spread out. Settle down. Plant some roots, you know."

"Any place in particular? You looking to stay in DC?"

He shrugged, "Honestly? I'm looking to go wherever you go."

She scrunched up her nose a bit, "That might not be somewhere you can plant your roots, Tony. Not unless you want to live abroad forever."

"Then I'll postpone the root planting until further notice. You'll have to settle down at some point too, right?"

She smiled a little before letting her eyes drift down to the last point on the list.

She drew in a quick breath as she read it. Tears sprang to her eyes, which she had to blink back because crying right now would be so _pathetic._

When she spoke, the words were barely above a whisper, "Number 6: Start a family."

She looked over and he was watching her carefully. Maybe a little too carefully.

"Like a _family_ family? With children?"

He nodded, "The idea has been floating around in my head for a while. But it didn't seem possible while you were…"

She swallowed.

"You want to start a family… with me?"

He nodded, his eyes darting back and forth across her face to gauge her reaction.

She must not have given a good one, because he started fumbling over his words.

"N-not right now, necessarily. Like I said, I'm not quitting tomorrow. Maybe a few years down the line…"

She blinked.

"A-and if you don't want to we don't _have to,_ Ziva, because just being with you is more important to me than the family part. I-I was just thinking that if that was something that, you know, you would want then we could, maybe, possibly do it together."

She took several deep breaths before meeting his eyes, "What about right now? Would you be interested in starting a family with me… now?"

His eyes went wide as he tried to understand where she was going with this.

"Like… right this second?" He asked.

She nodded.

"Well… yeah, I guess. But I don't really see how that's possible since we-"

"I'm pregnant."

He froze, his eyes glossing over.

"What?"

"I'm pregnant, Tony. With your child."

"How do you-"

"I haven't been with anybody else in months, Tony. A year even."

"When did you-"

"I should have gotten my period days ago And something just felt... off. Ellie brought me some tests today. Seven of them, actually. They were all positive."

"But how can we - we've only ever - and you can't get-"

"We had sex without a condom, Tony. That's all it takes. One time. Ten times. It does not matter. Unprotected sex means a risk of pregnancy. Did you even watch those sex ed videos in high school?"

"I did… but I was mostly focused on the fun parts. You know, the boobs and stuff."

She laughed and his lips broke into a smile that told her the joke had been intentional. He was breaking the tension. He was always pretty good at that.

"So you weren't on any other kind of birth control?"

"What part of not having sex for almost a year do you not get? Birth control was not high on my priority list."

He nodded and looked over at Emily. She was playing quietly with her tea set, bringing a little cup to her lips before bringing it to the lips of her puppy, Kelev, so he could have a drink.

"So we're gonna have one of those?" Tony whispered.

Ziva followed his gaze and smiled down at the girl, "I do not suppose ours will come out quite so… blonde. But yes. We are going to have one of those."

He turned his head back to Ziva was a genuine smile on his face, "I'm really excited, Zi. You're gonna be an awesome mom."

She laughed, "We will see about that."

"You will be. And I'm gonna be an awesome dad. And we're gonna be an awesome little family. Speaking 10 languages around the house. Teaching our kid to throw knives at the tree in the backyard."

She glared at him and he held his hands up in surrender.

"Fake knives of course. Training knives."

"Training knives would never stick to a tree, Tony."

He shrugged, "Then we'll teach them how to shoot. With nerf guns."

She leaned forward, sliding a hand up his back to cradle his neck and she looked in his eyes.

"And you are sure about this? You want to have this child?"

He tangled his own hand in her hair and brought her lips to his. They moved against each other slowly as the reality of their futures set in. When they pulled back, they were both smiling, both from the kiss and their own mental pictures of their little family.

"I have never wanted anything more in my life, Ziva. This is my plan. You are my plan."

She smiled a bit as she brushed her thumb across his bottom lip, "You have been my plan for a while, Tony. I just had to work out the kinks."

"Chinks."

"No, the saying is kinks."

He shrugged, "I liked your way better."

She laughed and pulled his face to hers again.

They kissed for a while, like a _long time_ before Tony's phone rang.

He pulled away reluctantly and answered it.

"McGee."

"You want Kort? Here's your chance."

Tony sat back as he processed his partner's words.

"You got him?"

"We're about to. I'll text you his location in Chesapeake City. Wait for us if you get there first."

Tony looked up at Ziva's expectant face, "Are you sure he's there?"

"Listen, Tony. You wanted him. We got him."

"I'm on my way," he mumbled as he hung up the call.

Ziva waited for him to speak.

"They got him."

"So I heard. You need to go, right?"

He looked over at Emily, then back up at Ziva.

"I'm gonna end this."

"I know you are, Tony."

"I'm gonna kill him."

"Good."

"And then I'm gonna come back here and take you and Emily wherever you want to go. The park. The museum. Hell, I'll get us all on a plane to Israel _tonight_ if that's what you want."

"We can figure all of that out later, Ahava. Right now, you need to go."

He nodded, standing up and reaching for his NCIS coat. He made it all the way to the door before he looked behind him, his eyes drifting between Emily, Ziva, and her still flat stomach that he now knew contained the very beginnings of a _life_. His kid.

"I love you," he whispered, but she heard him anyway.

"I love you too, Tony. Shoot straight."

"I will. I have a lot riding on it. I'll see you later."

And with that he yanked open the door, swiping a hand across his belt to make sure his holster was in place. It was. Now all he had to do was drive.


	9. Chapter 9

**This can definitely be viewed as an epilogue of sorts, though I'm not going to label it that way. The story is coming to an end. Enjoy it while it lasts, tiva shippers.**

* * *

"Look who stopped by," Gibbs said as he blew sawdust off of the bottom of his boat.

Tony paused at the bottom of the stairs. Something in the bossman's tone told him he was expecting this visit. Could he possibly know what it would lead to?

"Something on your mind," the older man asked as he poured a bottle of bourbon.

"I wanna tell you why I was late today."

"Well, you got there, DiNozzo. I don't need an explanation."

"But I have one. A few months ago, you asked me what I really wanted. If I wanted to be an agent anymore. Catch bad guys," Tony was wandering farther into the basement as he talked, looking around at all the junk piled on the walls, "Now I know the answer."

Gibbs nodded, "Had a feeling."

"The Gibbs gut?"

"No. You. It seems to me you've known for a while. Only now, Ziva's back. And that means what you really want is closer than ever."

Tony chuckled, "You have no idea."

"Then tell me."

"She's pregnant."

Gibbs took a long swig of his bourbon as he eyed his agent, "Yours?"

"Oh, yeah. We had a very… friendly reunion. And after two weeks of playing house with someone else's kid, she finds out we're gonna have one of our own.

"She had just finished telling me when McGee called. And when he told me you guys got Kort, I had this feeling. Something I'd never felt before. In that moment, I didn't want him dead. All I wanted to do was stay with Ziva. And take care of Emily. They were all that mattered to me. The little girl who lost everything, and the woman who lost everything years ago and worked so hard to gain it all back. That's where I wanted to be. I wanted to stay with them."

"Spoken like a true father," Gibbs set his glass on top of the boat and leaned against it.

Tony smiled, "That's a step in the right direction."

"But you showed up."

"Yes I did. In all kinds of ways. Kort still thought Ziva was dead. But I had to end it. If she was ever going to be safe, here or in Israel, I had to kill him. He was threatening my family."

Gibbs nodded, "I know. You did the right thing."

"But that's it. I'm done now. I'm going with Ziva back to Israel, and we're gonna take care of Emily until her father finishes his tour. Then we're gonna move to Paris. Ziva loves Paris."

"Ever think you'll find yourself back on US soil?"

Tony shrugged, "We'll see. We're playing it by ear. I'd like to get a place out in Virginia and settle down. But I'll pretty much follow her anywhere. Wherever she is, that's where I'm supposed to be. That's my place in this world. Right next to her."

Gibbs nodded his approval, "You gotta do what you gotta do."

Tony stuck out his hand, "I would say thank you, but that doesn't quite cover it, Boss."

Gibbs set down the tools in his hands and went in for the rare hug. Tony wrapped his arms around the man happily. This way much better than the head slap he had been expecting.

"You take care of yourself and your family, DiNozzo."

"Copy that, Boss."

* * *

Ziva shifted beside him, her head dipping lower on his shoulder until it almost fell off.

Almost. She caught herself with a slight groan before bringing it back up to rest securely against him.

He smiled as he pulled her closer, well, as close as the uncomfortable airplane seats would let him. He looked over at Emily, who was fast asleep with her head leaning against the window, Kelev balancing precariously on her legs. He had a feeling he would have to shuffle Ziva around to pick the dog up off the floor in a few minutes. Might as well try to keep her awake.

"Pst. Ziva. Babe."

"Hm?" she moaned, her eyes still shut.

"I put it into words."

Now she lifted her head and squinted at him, "Put what into words?"

He smirked as he took in her sleepy, grumpy face. It was cute. So freaking cute.

"You asked me what you were to me. I told you I couldn't put it into words. I finally did."

She seemed to mull this over before nodding slightly and dropping her head back to his shoulder, "Let's hear it. What did you come up with, Tony?"

He waited a beat, letting the suspense build as he slowly brushed his lips across the top of her forehead.

"You are everything to me, Ziva."

She lifted her head again, this time her eyes were open wider as she looked up at him.

She smiled a little, "You know, I have never been anyone's everything before."

"Get used to it."

She laughed lightly as she rested her head back on his shoulder and closed her eyes, "I can do that."

"Good."

He waited for her breathing to even out before he reached his far hand into his pocket, fingering the velvety box stashed inside. He wasn't sure when exactly he would get around to proposing. He thought about doing it before they left, but it felt rushed. So he toyed with the idea of doing it once they got settled into their new place, wherever that ended up being. Maybe he would wait until Lieutenant Bower came to pick up Emily. He was sure Ziva would have a hard time watching the little girl go, so maybe a fancy new ring would help. Then again, maybe he should wait until after the baby is born, so she doesn't think he's just doing it because he got her pregnant. But things would get pretty busy after that, so maybe he should…

She shifted again, running one of her hands down his arm and intertwining her fingers with his. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, and he felt a smile spread across her face.

"I love you, Tony," she whispered into his shirt, so quiet that he wouldn't have been able to hear it if not for the entire plane being dead silent as most passengers slept.

"I love you too, Ziva. Thank you for being my family."


End file.
